I Dare Not Hope
by prettytimemachine
Summary: Horror/Supernatural AU. Margaret and her father are left penniless as they both try to recover from the loss of her mother when they move to Milton. Nothing is what it seems as Margaret realizes something is not right in this dark mysterious town. When strange and unexplainable things start to happen, Margaret can only wonder if the secretive Thornton's have anything to do with it.
1. Chapter 1

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 1

"_Hell is empty and all the devils are here." – The Tempest, William Shakespeare_

"_I wish I could tell you how lonely I am. How cold and harsh it is here. Everywhere there is conflict and unkindness. I think God has forsaken this place. I believe I have seen hell and its white, its snow-white."_  
_― Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South_

Margaret stood looking out of her window across the green field of Helstone. The day was bright as the sun shone across the thriving Southern land, but the anguish in Margaret's heart could not be diminished. She knew not how long she had been standing there, hoping to take her mind from the present. After awhile she realized she had been wringing her hands together so tightly that she couldn't feel the tips of her fingers anymore. Looking down, her first movement in hours, she saw the purple hue she inflicted upon herself. She had been trying so hard to keep from crying that she didn't notice the state she had put herself in. She realized even if she allowed her tears to fall that she couldn't, even if she forced them from her being.

When her mother had passed not two weeks ago she couldn't even fathom letting one tear fall. Seeing her father crumble before her eyes in despair like he had, had made Margaret the stern and dependable figure that she always had been. Margaret wholeheartedly stepped into her mother's role in this horrid time as she and her father were left to pick up the pieces without her. Mr. Hale cried like a babe at the loss of his wife, denouncing God as the reason they should be tormented so. His words echoed in Margaret's ears, _why have you forsaken me, God?! My wife, my dear Maria, taken so cruelly from my side, oh I love you not Lord, for you have brought doubt within my heart!_

Margaret turned a blind eye to her father's blasphemous remarks, not willing to go down that dark path with him. As it was, she stayed vigil at his side while Dixon kept to her house work. Though Margaret knew she suffered just as the rest of them. She would hear the maid throughout the house muttering under her breath that it should have been the master, not her mistress that was taken from this good earth. Again, Margaret would not hear it.

She wished more than anything that Fred was here with them, but quickly realized he would not take it well, quite like her father, they were so similar. Although Fred was older then herself, she felt the mature one at times. Being left as the only child while Fred was away, indefinitely, left the responsibilities on her shoulders alone. Not that she minded. She loved her family dearly. When they were children Fred would have the unconditional love from both their parents and given no scorn at his wrongdoings, while Margaret diligently followed in his footsteps. She always looked up to Fred and tried to stay the devoted and pure daughter that the Hale's expected. Even the scandal that Fred had found himself in had not lessened their parents love for their first born. The mutiny came as a shock that started her mother's illness but one year ago. Since then she had not recovered. In her last moments her thoughts were of her young boy. Even thought the Hales knew of Fred's innocence, the slander on the Hale name had struck a blow on all of them.

Scorned as Margaret felt during this time, she still displayed a proud countenance at all times. People who knew Margaret outside her family had at times accused her of lack of sympathy and empathy towards those around her, but upon making her better acquaintance found her to be sweet tempered and kind, if at some times headstrong, but Margaret didn't mind.

Margaret had felt the loss of her dear mother and felt, like her father, that her time had come too soon. She wished she had more time with her mother, to strengthen the bond between a mother and a daughter, but it was too late. Peering back out towards the edge of the field where the blossoms had faded and where her mother's fresh grave lied, she tried to imagine the last time the Hales had felt like a family. _Ever since Fred left Helstone nothing had been the same_. Leaving for the Navy had been Fred's ambition, much to her parents dismay they had to let him go, leaving them to worry over him for the past five years. The Mutiny and his hiding from the law now guaranteed Fred's absence, and Margaret feared, _forever_.

In the mean time her father had kept to giving sermons at the church every Sunday, and giving hope where he could to those less fortunate and to those who would take solace from a man who fathered a mutineer. In Fred's absence Margaret was determined to show that she could be just as devoted as he had been. She listened to her father day and night and let him read stories of all sorts aloud to her and her mother. When her mother became ill, her father had cast that all aside to stay by his love's side, day and night.

Margaret at times became angry with Fred for leaving at all, but how was anyone to know this would happen? She knew she missed him and tried not to feel abandoned. She knew it was selfish and not the Christian way but she had been hurt. She knew then that Fred ambitious and just as headstrong as her, and had hoped that she could fill the void in her parent's hearts in his absence. But it was not to be so. As much as she tried her parents mourned for Fred as if he was dead and buried! It hurt more than words could say that they might never see him again.

Margaret clenched her hands again. She knew it was wrong to feel the way she did. She knew her character better than anyone and was disappointed in herself for her dreary thoughts. She anticipated leaving Helstone as it was not to be their home any longer. In reality it had never felt like home to her. Looking around her barren room, her belongings now in boxes, she thought of Edith and her Aunt Shaw. How she missed them so. She had spent most of her youth with her dear cousin, and always felt more herself in Edith's presence. It wasn't until Fred left that her parents asked her to come back home.

Edith, like herself had been dealt a terrible blow this past year. Her fiancé Captain Lennox had died of typhoid. Taken away too soon like Mrs. Hale. Edith was inconsolable. Margaret had wanted so badly to go to her cousin's side to comfort her, and hopefully in turn Margaret would receive the same compassion. But Margaret would not leave her father. Her Aunt Shaw had offered Margaret many times to come live with them permanently, now that Fred was gone and her father penniless. As much as Margaret wished for this she was not heartless. No, she would stay with her father.

Margaret dusted away the cloudy thoughts invading her mind. There was still so much to be done and she had to see to it. All her possessions in her room were packed away and ready, but she was sure both her father and Dixon were heartbroken to leave and did not hasten themselves to leave at once. Her mother's room had been left untouched to the last. Margaret knew the task would be left up to her.

They couldn't afford to live here now anyway. Once her father quit the church he could not be seen as a respectable man of the parish any longer, not while in Helstone. So, they had to leave.

Margaret walked through her room leaving a strange echoing behind her. Making her way down the steps Margaret could hear Dixon in the kitchen. Muttering under her breath again and packing away the china.

"I'm going to go through Mama's room now, Dixon. Would you care to help me?" Margaret asked to a hunched over Dixon, who huffed and puffed while making a show of the whole display.

At the mention of Mrs. Hale's room, Dixon looked up like the notion had never been mentioned before. Slack jawed, she directed to Margaret, but said more to herself, "If it wasn't for your father we would never have to leave Helstone. No, no mistress you see to it. I cannot step foot in that room without losing all the sense I have left!" She waved Margaret away with a flash of her hand. Dixon muttered under her breath some comment on Mr. Hale not doing a thing to help. How Dixon wished the mistress was still alive. Margaret only wished that Dixon knew they all felt as she did. After all she was her mother, not Dixon's! And this was her home she was leaving!

Margaret turned from the kitchen, unwilling to stand to hear her father spoken of in such a manner. _The sooner we will be rid of Helstone the better we will be_. Even as Margaret told herself this, she wasn't sure they could escape the confines of grief in another setting that would be all too unfamiliar. She felt though, that none of them could go on as they have while in Helstone. At least in another place it would feel like a fresh start.

As Margaret turned about the house looking for her father, she took in the sights around her as it would be her last. With the curtains gone and the furniture removed, the light came through harshly in the echoing rooms. She wouldn't miss Helstone. No, she would miss how she once viewed the Eden she thought it was.

Finding her father cooped up in his study, book in his hand she hummed to get his attention. Turning to find his daughter patiently waiting for entry Mr. Hale lightened at the sight of his daughter.

"My dear Margaret," he said while removing his spectacles, "You look positively wild my dear, where have you been all day?"

Margaret took his meaning as her face was flush from silently fuming at Dixon and her hair had been unkempt these last few weeks. She didn't give a bother to her appearance with so much to do and take care of.

"I have been in my room, making sure all is ready. How are you father?" She asked with a genuine smile upon her face. She purposely did not tell her father that she would have to go through Mama's room. She took his hands in hers as she sat on the floor in front of him. Looking into his eyes she could see how tired he looked. _He_ _looks so old_, she thought worryingly to herself.

"It is hard to acknowledge, but I do not think leaving Helstone is the right thing to do." He admitted.

"I know Papa, I do not wish to leave either," she lied, "but you know we must."

"Yes." was all Mr. Hale could say as he sat back in his chair, one hand holding onto Margaret's. "It's just that your mother loved Helstone, and to be leaving her, I just can't think of it Margaret!"

"Shh, Papa. You know mother will always be with us. No matter where we go, that should comfort you. Is it so hard to believe that we should be able to make a home with just the two of us?" Margaret asked hopefully.

Mr. Hale could only turn his head from Margaret's sight and nod. She hung her head in disappointment. No, she would not miss Helstone. The brisk November air wafted through the room making Margaret shiver on the floor. It had turned chilly quickly. The days moved in a breeze. There was no more time to waste.

Margaret felt more than ever that she would rather be anywhere else then Helstone. They were quiet for awhile, just the two of them in the study until Dixon knocked harshly on the door.

"Everything is ready Master. We are free to go once Mrs. Hale's room is through." Dixon said haughtily.

Margaret's gaze on Dixon hardened as she looked to the maid. _Had she no compassion?!_

"Thank you Dixon." Margaret said, dismissing her. "Come father, we must not waste any more time or we'll miss our train and our appointments in London." Margaret stood to leave but was held in place by her father's sudden embrace.

"But I cannot leave her Margaret!" Mr. Hale sobbed.

Margaret held him firmly, trying to think of how to placate him. She held him back, relishing at the gesture, even if his emotions had overtaken him in his grief.

"You know we must father. It is settled. We will go to Milton, you and I and Dixon shall seek employment. All is not lost. We will fair in Milton just as well as Helstone." Margaret's voice was filled with hope. Hope for her father, and enough hope for herself. Though she couldn't say how much good it would do her. _How she wished to be free from this misery! Oh mama why did you ever leave us?!_

"What is Milton to Helstone? Have you been there Margaret? Nay, you cannot say Milton is as Helstone!" Mr. Hale passed by Margaret in an attempt to keep her from dissuading him otherwise.

"You know I have not father, but surely any place we are together cannot be as bad as you think?" Margaret stood waiting for her father to come back. _He really was not himself anymore_, she mused.

Margaret could see her father's shoulder relax as he turned to her, shame and embarrassment etched across his stony face. "Of course Margaret, how could I say such a thing?" They both sighed in silent relief. "I have not been a father to you these passed months have I?"

Margaret looked down, unwilling to let him think he was not himself. "No, papa."

"I know I haven't." He took her in her arms again, "I wish now, more than ever that you had married Henry, and then I wouldn't have to worry about you."

Margaret physically blanched at the thought of Henry Lennox, her once betrothed. They had fallen in love after being introduced through Edith, as Henry was brother to Captain Lennox. Margaret could recall that lovely summer's day when he had promised her a wedding in Helstone. Margaret knew the love they felt was one sided when he found out about Fred and that she would be desolate by the year's end. He had broken off any such promise of a betrothal saying he would not marry into a _broken family with an outlaw for a brother_. But Margaret could not tell her father this. She knew how it would hurt him.

"You know Henry and I have always been good friends, but that is all papa." Margaret said to her father while trying to assure herself of her own words. She wondered where he was at this moment and quickly chastised herself for thinking any more on him. How much she too wished things had turned out differently.

"Maybe you're right. This will be new for the both of us, a fresh start as they say." Her father's voice ripped her from her memory of Henry and the scar he had left on her heart.

"Oh how true it is father. Just wait and you will see. Milton could be our new Eden."

With a pat on her head from her father, Margaret left to tend to her mother's room. Taking the stairs one at a time Margaret wished to do anything else but go through her mother's things. They were to be sorted and sold except for the few treasures Margaret would want to keep.

The hinges on the door groaned as Margaret opened it wide. She almost expected to find her mother in her sitting chair, embroidering. Mrs. Hale had fervently tried to get Margaret to better herself in embroidery but it was never for her. Mrs. Hale had given up long ago trying to better Margaret's skill. Margaret regretted not spending the stolen time with her mother.

Margaret got straight to it, tackling her mother's chest drawer full of her linens and laces. All of her mother's fine embroidery work was kept within the chest. Margaret quickly rummaged through all of them not willing to spend a moment longer looking at every single one. It wasn't until Margaret found one of her own unfinished embroideries still in its hoop that she really felt the loss of her mother. Margaret succumbed to grief as she hung herself over the chest with her mother's laces strewn around her. _Oh Mama! Mama! Why did you leave me?! _Margaret still did not shed one single tear.

Margaret did not look back once as they departed from Helstone. The only sight she let her eyes look forlornly after was the sight of the church tower over the trees. The church she would have married Henry in. And if she had stayed in Helstone for the better part of her days, would have been buried in, next to her mother. As the train gained speed and jostled along the tracks Margaret couldn't help the excitement she felt at being free from the burden of the house that held so many memories, good and bad. She looked forward to her unknown future in Milton. The prospect of a new life and possible employment for the first time in her life gave her a feeling she didn't recognize. _Was it hope?_

"We should arrive in Milton by nightfall father." Margaret spoke up, knowing that if she didn't start conversation, no one else would.

"Very good, then I can meet with my contact, Mr. Thornton." Mr. Hale said, settling in next to his daughter, across from Dixon, who had been silent since they left their home.

"Is this Mr. Thornton the one who has set up lodgings and possible employment for you?" Margaret had heard her father mention a Mr. Thornton before. She found it quite odd that a complete stranger would help them so willingly and with no ulterior motive from what she could gather. Unless this tradesman had understood how fortuitist it would be to have an educated clergyman new to town.

"The very one my dear, I shall meet his acquaintance in London. You might be right of the promise of a new start in Milton, Margaret, if all men of the town are as gentlemanly and obliging as he." Mr. Hale said, nodding off as he spoke.

Margaret only nodded, hoping that her intuition was right, that this Mr. Thornton was not trying to swindle them. If he was, he was in for quite a surprise as there was nothing they could give him if he asked for it!

Mr. Hale and Dixon had long since fallen asleep, so Margaret could smile and fidget in her seat to her heart's content. She hoped that her mother would have been proud of her only daughter fending for herself and her family. Now that they were penniless she didn't have the luxuries that she used to. She still considered herself a lady in every way but hoped to prove to the people of Milton that she was as hard working and respectable as them. _What would the people of Milton be like? Would she make friends like she had in London? Could she and her father truly be happy?_

It was all too much for Margaret. Her life had changed in such a short amount of time that for once, she didn't know what the future held for her.

Before she knew it they had arrived in London. Looking out across the station to the busy familiar streets, Margaret felt almost like herself coming back to the bustling city. The sudden stop of the train woke her father and Dixon from their slumber. Margaret looked out wide eyed towards the station.

Once they retrieved their things and headed for their hotel for the next few days Margaret felt lighter than ever. She adapted so well to city life and hoped her father and Dixon could adjust as well.

Their first evening in the hotel would be spent without employment. While Dixon and Margaret settled into their room, Mr. Hale saw to call on a few friends and make his appointment with Mr. Thornton as soon as possible.

Much to the Hale's and Dixon's surprise, Mr. Thornton had replied that he would be glad to meet Mr. Hale that very morning. They were all very glad in his hastiness as they weren't sure they could afford their lodgings at the hotel for very long. So as the morning came, Margaret bid farewell to her father for the day, so she took off along the seashore of Heston. Noticing already the difference between Helstone and even the less industrial towns in London, Margaret noted how much more grey and duller Heston was. She knew as close as they were to Milton, that it would be even less alluring and enduring then their current stay. Still, she could not quell her desire to finally be in Milton to settle in.

Margaret had been anxious all day for her father's return. When he finally came back to the hotel a little after noon, Margaret could see how exhausted her father was.

"How was your meeting father?" She asked as soon as her father sat down and settled himself in their room.

"Interesting indeed." Her father said as if he was in a daze.

"Interesting? How so? Was Mr. Thornton not helpful?" Margaret asked disappointment laced through her voice.

"No, he was very helpful. Quite a fine gentleman for a tradesman. I think he will set us up just fine. He told me of a few houses we could be comfortable in and some promising employment and reassured me that we had nothing to worry over. We would stay in Milton permanently. " Mr. Hale paused and Margaret thought that the end of their talk of Mr. Thornton. But Margaret could sense from her father's unease that it was not.

He continued quietly almost as if to himself alone, "Strange, very strange." He muttered to himself.

"What is strange papa?" Margaret rose from her seat to be closer to her father while trying to see if Dixon was out of earshot. She had a feeling that if something was wrong, Dixon wouldn't take lightly to it.

"Although I'm confident that Mr. Thornton will do everything in his power to help keep us in Milton, I…well I'm not sure what it is Margaret. I know it is silly of me, but it was almost as if Mr. Thornton knew everything I was going to say. As soon as I'd start to ask a question, he'd assure me that everything would be taken care of. He had complete control over the meeting. I suppose it's just being in a strange place after so long that I feel in such a fog." Mr. Hale laughed off nervously.

"Of course father. The fear of an unknown place and people will do strange thing to you. You will feel right at home as soon as we are settled. And as far as Mr. Thornton, I'm sure he is just being a very good businessman. He'd have to be if he was in trade. You know how men of power can be." Margaret said reassuringly.

"Yes of course. I'm just a tired old man. I'll be off to bed Margaret." Mr. Hale, convincing as he sounded to Margaret couldn't fool her with the pallor expression upon his face.

As he went off to his own room, Margaret was left sitting in the room by herself thinking over what her father had just told her. Margaret couldn't deny the doubt she felt deep in her core. Margaret was sure that once she met Mr. Thornton for herself that she would laugh off her father's musings as fanciful.

As Margaret lay in bed that night one thought from her conversation with her father swam about in her head constantly, pushing away any possibility of sleep, _We would stay in Milton permanently. _

_Was it all absolute that Milton would shackle us forever?! What did this Mr. Thornton know of our future in Milton?! Was it all a mistake leaving Helstone?!_

Eventually Margaret fell asleep just as the sun rose over the horizon. Her last thoughts were of the strange Mr. Thornton.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Please read the first chapter again as I have made changes to it, if you have not already done so. Please review if you'd like!**

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 2

Margaret woke with a start as the curtains to her room were abruptly pulled apart to let in the afternoon light. Margaret could hardly keep her eyes open at the intruding light of day. Sitting up quickly she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes.

"Dixon, what time is it? It cannot be noon." Margaret muttered with a yawn.

"That it is mistress. Mr. Hale said not to wake you as you were more than likely tired from your exertions from yesterday." Dixon hurried about Margaret's room as she was to prepare Margaret for another busy day.

Margaret lay back against the crisp linen sheets not yet ready to face the day. She felt like she had been sleeping on the ground her back was so stiff, and her head, oh that she could keep her head from pounding excessively! It didn't help that the sun, although dim from behind the hazy day, was enough to cast Margaret on her side, away from the penetrating light.

"Where is Papa?" Margaret asked curling further under her blankets.

"He is in the parlor downstairs. He said for you to come down as soon as you woke."

"Dixon, why didn't you say so?" Margaret gasped as she sprung from her bed with renewed fervor to meet with her father. He was surely waiting on her for them to start their search for a house. She quickly put on the dress that Dixon had handed to her. As Dixon assisted Margaret in buttoning her dress Margaret haphazardly put her hair up.

"Has he been waiting long?"Margaret felt guilty that she had slept so long and left her father waiting on her. When they could have had a good start on the day hours ago!

"Aye mistress, he was up with the sun this morn." Dixon finished with Margaret's buttons and tried her best to fix the state of Margaret's hair.

"Oh, Dixon I wished you had woken me." Margaret pulled form Dixon's attentions looking for her shoes. Finding them and hastily putting them on she dressed herself for a chilly day. November had come and brought with it cold days, but in London, and so close to Milton, Margaret could already feel the biting weather and she knew they were to experience a good and proper winter. Not like the ones in Helstone.

Grabbing her scarlet coat and dawning a similar shaded cap, Margaret made her way to her father. After situating herself and making sure she didn't look as haphazard as she felt she searched for her father. She found him seated next to the fire in the lobby. There were few other guests strewn around the room in a similar fashion to her father, but her father sat alone. The sight urged Margaret to go to her father's side quickly. His profile was to her as she came closer and she could see he was gazing out of the window that overlooked the street. The green armchair seemed to engulf his whole form. Margaret was right by his side, but he did not take notice of her presence.

The flames from the roaring fire cast a light on his glasses shielding his eyes from her. For a moment Margaret thought it was not her father, but quickly chastised herself, for it was indeed her father! But the faraway look in his sight made Margaret question her own memory of her dear Papa. She knew the fitful night of sleep was dampening her senses.

"Papa, I'm sorry to keep you alone and waiting this morning." Margaret sat on the opposite chair across from her father. "Have you taken breakfast?"

"Oh, my dear Margaret! I'm afraid you've taken me quite by surprise. I'm afraid I was far away just now." Her father exclaimed a little bewildered. If he had only known that Margaret had slept just as he did, he would know she felt as in a similar state as he was this day. "No worries my dear, I would rather you get your rest for the day ahead."

"Thank you father. I'm quite ready whenever you are." Margaret was ready to go but her father bade her to sit awhile longer.

Mr. Hale reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a parcel. "I received a message from Mr. Thornton this morning." Margaret had almost forgotten! The very reason why she had such a terrible time last night, she remembered how thoughts of a man she never met before had invaded her mind and gave way to such wakeful dreams. She ignored the slight chill up her back that seemed to be congruent with Mr. Thornton these past days. "And surprisingly from my old college fellow Mr. Bell." Mr. Hale finished.

Here, Margaret's heart froze. If there was anyone she would like to avoid and never be in the same company with again, it was Mr. Bell. She remembered her father's friend from his visits when she was a child. Whenever he paid a visit to the Hales she wished more than anything to be in London with her aunt and cousin. It vexed her how he always knew when she would be at Helstone. There was something about Mr. Bell, but Margaret could never put her finger on what it was about this bachelor that made her detest him so.

He always teased Margaret endlessly. Which is expected of a god father but then he would look at her when he thought no one was looking. The way his gaze paralyzed her to silence. She would hide under her Mama's skirts when his gaze did not waver. Her parents naturally brushed it off to her shyness. But as Margaret grew older and had come into her own as a woman, she received the same stares again. This time he unabashedly gazed upon her form and smiled like he knew something she did not. He had been conveniently absent while her mother was ill and while news of her brother had spread throughout the parish. Margaret was glad he had made himself scarce, but knew sooner or later he would visit again. But to find that he had found them so soon as they arrived in London surprised Margaret.

Mr. Hale told Margaret of the nature of both letters unaware of the affect the news had on her. "Mr. Thornton wrote to me of a few promising places we could settle. He urged me to go to Milton-Northern, as did Mr. Bell. They both assured me that I could ascertain to a good many places where I will find success. Mr. Bell would like to meet with me as soon as we are settled. Oh, Margaret it does me good to know we shall have friends in Milton! Margaret? What is the matter?" Mr. Hale took notice of his daughter's pallor expression and downcast eyes.

"Nothing father, I am just more tired than I thought. I'm glad for your friends." She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.

Accepting his daughter's excuse Mr. Hale continued with the contents of his letters. "Mr. Bell urged me to relay a message to you dear Margaret. You know he had always loved you as his own daughter. I told him of our situation and he urges you to seek employment under Mr. Thornton. You know Mr. Bell is Mr. Thornton's tenant? He runs Marlborough Mills, the cotton mill."

"No, I did not know that father." Margaret knew in that moment that any hope she had of Mr. Thornton and the kind of gentleman he might be was diminished with his acquaintance of Mr. Bell. She now felt as if Milton would be just as Helstone to her. As long as Mr. Bell was to make a part in her and her father's life in Milton, she could never be happy. Oh, hope is a fickle thing!

"Let us be off and get our work done." Mr. Hale stood up and put his arm out for his daughter to take. With a heavy heart, Margaret put her hand in the crook of her father's arm and held on for dear life.

"Very well father. Let us see the houses Mr. Thornton has suggested. Let's make haste, the sooner we find a house the sooner we can settle." Margaret stood determined, wanting to please her father more than anything. Regardless of her own feelings and fears she would do this.

* * *

After a full day of house hunting and finally settling on one that was tucked away in a corner of a damp tight street, Mr. Hale and Margaret chose a tiny three story apartment that would give them both separate rooms. There was enough space for the both of them and Dixon to live comfortably in. Although the first thing that her father could comment on was the state of the wallpaper and how he should like it to be changed to one more suited to Helstone. Margaret was happy to oblige her father this one accommodation.

Though the day was successful, Margaret was surprised at the state of Milton, an industrial town she expected, but one that was so dirty and poor was a complete shock to her. How could a town with a successful cotton business leave its workers living like paupers? She knew there wasn't much money to be made as a worker, but surely they could live in better circumstances when their masters lived more than comfortably. Margaret just couldn't see the logic in the way things worked in the North. At least the South had its virtue of good business sense.

Margaret and her father made their way back to the hotel. The air had gotten even colder then she anticipated and was anxious to get her father in where he could warm himself. Once they entered the hotel, a bell boy informed Mr. Hale that a Mr. Thornton had called on him, but left an hour ago.

"Oh, we missed him Margaret!" Mr. Hale exclaimed.

Margaret, silently thankful for the delay in a meeting, tried to tell her father he would surely call again, whether at the hotel or at Crampton. The young bell boy gave Mr. Hale a note from Mr. Thornton expressing his apologies that he had missed them.

After reading the note over, Mr. Hale looked to his daughter. "It seems you are right Margaret. Mr. Thornton will call on us as soon as we are settled."

Margaret smiled at her father, anticipating the inevitable visit from Mr. Bell's friend, Mr. Thornton. Surely with Mr. Thornton, a visit from her god father was not far away.

The next day, Margaret, Mr. Hale, and Dixon left the hotel to move into their new home. They had made preparations for the few furnishings they could keep to be delivered before they arrived. Boarding the train again, Margaret noticed she did not feel as she did when they were first on their way, away from Helstone. The hope she had once felt seemed to be withering away by the fear of her new life. Now that she had a better idea of what her new life would be.

They arrived in good time, which made Margaret thankful that they were not that far away from London after all. The train ride would certainly be quicker then the carriage from Crampton to London, she thought. _A day's journey surely would not keep her from her aunt and Edith if she wished to visit_! As the steam cleared, she saw the black figures move through the fog on the platform. The white swirls danced around the passerby's making an eerie sight to her still drowsy eyes. Margaret woke her father and Dixon in a daze, anxious to get off the train.

Margaret swung the door open, stepping into the cool night air. As the breath danced from her lips she could just make out the dark hues and textures of the old brick building. Tattered posters and signs hung torn and flapping in the air. As the station began to clear, and the train departed, she went to retrieve their bags. Looking back to see the train disappear into the fog Margaret couldn't help the uneasy feeling crawl up her spine. This was Milton, it was her home now. Swallowing her doubts she rejoined her father and Dixon, "Come father, we are here."

What Margaret thought was hope, now felt like the sensation that was fast becoming familiar to her, the feeling of fear.

When they arrived in front of their new home, boxes and boxes of their belongings were left by the front door. Dixon could not suppress the horror she felt having to live in such a place. She had her handkerchief to her nose as if the smell alone offended her. Margaret could see that the front door was open. Hastily, Margaret exited the carriage wanting to know the current situation of their belongings. In particular Margaret wanted to make sure what she kept of her mother was safe and sound.

Surprisingly, all the furniture was in its proper place and the desired boxes were ready to be distributed to their proper place.

"Just tell us where ta put them boxes miss." One man heaved a box on the floor in the entry, turning to speak to Margaret.

"Oh, please don't worry yourself I'm sure we could manage. It is late as it is." Margaret wasn't even sure which rooms would serve what purpose. She was fairly certain of the drawing room, and her own room, but her father had not decided which he would like.

"Sorry miss, you see, we've got orders from the master. He tol' us to make sure everything was good an' settled so ye don't have ta lift a finger." He said as if he really wanted to do as she said, but knew to go against the master's orders meant the chance of losing one's position.

"Mr. Thornton is your master?" Margaret was starting to wonder if there was anything the business man did not interfere with. Margaret wondered if she was being selfish. After all he was only trying to help her father. She just couldn't get Mr. Bell's penetrating gaze from her thoughts. She hoped after finally meeting with Mr. Thornton that she would see there was a difference between the two men. She hoped at least.

"Aye, he's my master. I'm his footman, I'm Nicholas Higgins." He extended his hand to Margaret. Margaret was taken back, staring at the outstretched hand to Mr. Higgins' face.

He took it back, wiping it on his shirt like it had been soiled. "Yer not from around here are you Miss?" He smiled kindly to her, he had not taken offense to what she didn't know.

"No, I'm not. I'm from the South. My name is Margaret Hale." She bowed her head in a show of introduction.

"Aye, the master said Mr. Hale was traveling far. So miss, where'd you like these?" He pointed to the boxes at their feet.

Just then Mr. Hale came into the open entry way with Dixon close behind. She still had the handkerchief to her nose.

"Father, this is Mr. Higgins. He works for Mr. Thornton," At the mention of Mr. Thornton, Margaret could see her father's face lighten. She felt a pang of envy in her stomach and didn't know what to make of it, "He wants to know where we want the boxes."

"The drawing room upstairs should do for now don't you think Margaret?" Her father replied stepping passed her to look about the house.

Margaret nodded to Nicholas as he took one of the boxes to haul up the stairs.

"Not so fast there!" Dixon yelled behind the man. She came forward and peered at the contents of the box as Higgins was struggling to hold it as it was. "_That _belongs in the kitchen. Follow me sir. I will tell you what to do with it."

Margaret tried to keep from laughing at the exasperated look on Higgins' face as he followed the haughty maid down another corridor. Margaret was pleased to see Dixon already taking to running the house.

Margaret followed her father upstairs into the drawing room. He stood in the middle peering around him at the unfamiliar surroundings. Seeing their furnishings from Helstone contrasting with the room made the Hales feel even more out of place in the Northern town of Milton.

"Oh Margaret, are we really to live here?" Mr. Hale exclaimed with blank dismay.

Margaret could hardly ignore the dreariness which the question was asked. She could scarcely convince herself that it was just the Northern climate and November weather that made them feel unwelcome.

"I'm sure it will be the death of me. Then you will not have to stay Margaret." Mr. Hale said, seeking for his daughter's sympathy. With no regard to her own.

Margaret couldn't comprehend an answer to her father's morbid turn of conversation. Instead she put her mind to work.

"Come father, unpack your books. That shall surely make you feel better." Margaret watched as her father slowly went to look for his prized possessions, while she got to unload the boxes that were already brought up. She took to separating all the items into the rooms where they belonged. So far Nicholas had done a good job of sorting them correctly, unless Dixon had not left his side.

Margaret moved the couches and bookshelves where she desired them to be, when she noticed the wallpaper was completely different then how she had left them only yesterday! She was sure they were green. Her father had specifically told her he wanted a yellow cream color to match the curtains from Helstone.

"Father, did you inform the landlord or Mr. Thornton of the wallpaper?"

"No, only you my dear. What is the matter?" He asked upon seeing her confused expression.

"The wallpaper has gone. Look someone has changed it." Margaret said bewildered. _Who could have known they were to be replaced, and in the exact same shade her father had required?_

"Well, that's one thing we will not have to worry over." Mr. Hale said, dismissing the mystery of the new wallpaper.

"I suppose, but Papa you are sure you told no one, not even in one of your letters?" Margaret did not like not knowing who knew to change the wallpaper when her father was adamant about not telling anyone but her.

Mr. Hale had resumed his work on his books and did not hear his daughters pleading.

The tingle up her spine that was starting to become familiar to Margaret crept on her once more_. How had they known? And who?_


	3. Chapter 3

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 3

To Margaret's surprise, unpacking and getting their new home to their comfort was done and over with within a few days time. As it was so small and cramped compared to their humble Helstone cottage, Margaret should have known that their few belongings would fit perfectly into the Crampton apartment. Margaret was pleased that the furnishings, books, and treasures of home had found their place in Milton. She wasn't sure when she and her father would come to feel the same kind of acceptance in the industrial town.

As Margaret looked around in the sitting room, which was much smaller than a whole width of a staircase in her aunt's home, she still wondered at the new wallpaper that instantly brightened the room. How grateful her Papa was that a little bit of Helstone familiarity had brightened the otherwise dank home. It had been three days passed when they had moved in and she still could not get the mystery of the wallpaper from her mind. She laughed at herself for letting such a small thing as room decorations to set her mind far from being at ease, but she could not help that someone seemed to know exactly what her father had desired without him saying a word to anyone but herself. She convinced herself many times that he must have simply forgotten that he had told someone.

But there was always that little part of her curious mind that thought that something was not right in this town. She knew that she had not given herself time to become accustomed to the ways of these Milton folk. She had walked to the market with Dixon every morning so she got a pretty clear view of the working life of the people. They seemed to accept her with open curiosity and wonder at the Southern strangers. Her father had already acquired students that he could tutor, which thankfully had kept him happy and busy.

Margaret had yet to find employment. On their journeys to market, Margaret inquired at local dress shops and alike if they were looking for hired help. They all seemed surprised that one such as Margaret, a lady, should want employment for herself. After the initial shock of such a request they all treated her like they would any a working class fellow. Margaret found she liked this better and made her feel more accepted. Though Margaret understood that no one could afford to take on another employee she still felt downcast that she had not yet to find proper employment.

Even with all her troubles, Margaret purposely avoided her godfather's advice to go to Mr. Thornton to seek employment. As much as she knew it was her duty to her family to help financially, she could not justify herself in seeking an interview with Mr. Bell's acquaintance, even if it was strictly business.

Thankfully they had not received a call from either Mr. Bell or Mr. Thornton since they settled, but Margaret knew it would happen soon enough, and she tried to mentally prepare herself for the meeting.

It was on the fourth day of living in Milton that the Hales had received a note from Mrs. Thornton. Margaret and Dixon had just come from the market when Mr. Hale met them at the door, seemingly in bright spirits. Margaret reminded herself to count her blessing that her father had seemed content and happy with their new life.

"Margaret, my dear, we shall have a call from Mrs. Thornton this afternoon. She sends her apologies that her son cannot join them, but she and Miss Thornton shall attend if we accept." Mr. Hale said in all one breath.

"By all means father, we shall accept. I'll prepare with Dixon for their visit." Margaret was just relieved that she could put off meeting with Mr. Thornton just yet.

"I say, that Mr. Thornton must be a very busy man. We have settled for well past two days and still no call. You know he is to be one of my pupils Margaret?"

"I did not father. What has a tradesman in need for reading and education? I would have thought a mind like his to be on numbers and figures." Margaret noted she sounded even haughty to her own ears. After all, she did not know Mr. Thornton. But after she saw the way the workers lived, she could easily imagine Mr. Thornton and all the other business men setting themselves high on their pedestals. When she really thought about it, she pictured them to be just like Mr. Bell. All tradesman and businessmen looked down at others and only leant a helping hand to put a coin in their pocket. In her eyes, they were no better than her godfather. Margaret shuddered at the thought.

"How you seem to know Mr. Thornton's character when you haven't even met the man. I pity him for your closed minded thoughts. Why, he was the one who welcomed us and helped us when we were strangers to him."Mr. Hale said in defense of his friend.

"I know he has been kind to us father, I'm sorry I doubted your friend. As you said, I have yet to meet him."Margaret regretted speaking ill of the one person who offered friendship to her father, in spite of everything.

"You still have not sought an interview from him?"

"No, I do have some promising positions." Margaret lied.

"By all means it wouldn't hurt you to seek him out all the same. He might even have better suggestions to where would suit you better."

"I promise Papa, I will ask after him by Mrs. Thornton and see what she thinks."

"A splendid idea."

With a pat on her head, Mr. Hale made himself scarce in his study while his daughter and Dixon made ready for their guests. Margaret came into the kitchen with an already working Dixon. The maid had her dough mixture ready to be rolled out.

"Here I will do that Dixon."Margaret stepped forward reaching for the rolling pin.

"As you wish." Dixon handed her the rolling pin rather hesitantly, seriously doubting that the lady could roll a batter out, let alone find a job. She didn't like the idea of Mrs. Hale being happy that her only daughter would have to be a working girl and work in the kitchen as a common maid! The thought made the reliable servant loathe Mr. Hale all the more. Oh how she wished Master Frederick were here, he would make things right, she was sure.

Watching Margaret struggling to roll out the batter Dixon asked, "So you told Mr. Hale you had some promising positions did you?" Dixon knew it to be a farce. Everywhere the young misses went she was turned down.

"I confess I did. Dixon what shall I do? I'm to call on Mr. Thornton if I do not find something!" Margaret exclaimed, rolling pin in hand and flour already over her dress. Dixon noted she would have to teach Margaret how to help properly if she was to share the kitchen duties with her.

"If it was your brother in your position he would have seen Mr. Thornton first thing." Dixon said, taking over Margaret's work.

The comment stung at Margaret's heart, always to be compared to her brother. But she knew Dixon was right.

"I know, I told Papa I would ask Mrs. Thornton when I should go to the mill." That Mrs. Thornton was to be there that afternoon and Margaret would have a set appointment to meet the mill owner, made Margaret doubt her own courage. Surely, she could face this as all other girls in her position have had to do. Many a girl would do this for their family gladly. She knew as much as she did not want to, she had a duty to her father, and her mother, and especially her brother in his absence. She wished more than ever that her mother were here with them. How different would things have been if Fred had not gone to the Navy, and her mother not become sick, or her father didn't doubt his purpose in life? Where would she be? She might have married Henry and gone to live with her Aunt Shaw and Cousin Edith to comfort her in her loss. What was to be Margaret's purpose? She figured that if she didn't take control of her own decisions she would never know. She would never rely on anyone but herself from now on.

As the preparations were finished down to the last detail, the Hales were ready to receive the Thornton women. At first Margaret did not know what to make of them. The sister, Fanny, wore a silk dress that had every color in it. Margaret wondered how such a gaudy dress could manage to look so elegant. She wondered at the beauty of Miss Thornton, her white blonde hair was in tight ringlets about her porcelain face. She did not smile, Margaret wondered if she would crack like glass if she managed to show emotion. At seeing Fanny's stern look Margaret reminded herself to smile every day for the rest of her life to her heart's content, wrinkles be damned! She would never wish to seem so fragile.

Both Mrs. and Miss Thornton walked through the sitting room as if floating on air. Margaret was made very aware of her homely appearance and dress as she hoped that she still didn't have flour in her dark hair.

Compared to Mrs. Thornton, Fanny was the sweetest lady she had ever be held. Besides the dark brow of Mrs. Thornton, Margaret could see that her piercing dark eyes could strike fear into anyone that she wished to set her mind to. Her black dress and black hair were a stark contrast to her daughter's. Margaret wondered how they could be related. But like Fanny, Mrs. Thornton couldn't fathom a smile. As all were settled on the settees, her father seemed unaware of the harshness that these women's presence caused, and they hadn't even spoken!

"I am glad you have come to visit us Mrs. Thornton. I am sorry your son could not join us." Mr. Hale said sadly.

"My son is a busy man Mr. Thornton. He asked me to come in his stead."

"That is very kind of him, wasn't it Margaret?" Mr. Hale turned his attention to his daughter as if to say, _"See, I told you."_

Margaret ignored the silent scolding from her father, "It is very kind of Mr. Thornton to send his mother in his…absence." Margaret knew it sounded cold and bitterly regretted it after receiving a hard glare from Mr. Thornton's mother.

After a few uncomfortable moments of silence Fanny abruptly raised her voice. "Miss Hale, how are you faring in Milton? Is it to your liking?" To Margaret's initial shock Fanny sounded even more heavenly that she looked. Her sweet, soft voice gave no indication that she did not incline after her under false pretence.

"I like it very well Miss Thornton. I admit that I was initially shocked at the difference between the South and the North. But I have been made to feel very welcome." Margaret said with true conviction.

"How does the South differ from the North, Miss Hale? I'm sure I'd like to know." Mrs. Thornton cut in bitterly. Margaret could see Fanny visibly shrink in her mother's demanding presence.

"I only meant Mrs. Thornton, that our ways are quite different. I'm not used to the bustle of a working industrial town, but I am gladdened by the kindness I have been shown here, especially by the workers."

"What is a lady doing mingling with the workers? You cannot mean to make friends with them?" Mrs. Thornton snapped as if she thought the workers were meant for only one purpose, to be hands in her son's mill.

"I do." Margaret said determined. "In my task to find employment I have met many a decent people, these…hands, as you call them. I met Mr. Higgins. Mr. Thornton's man and he seemed more than happy to help."

Both Mrs. Thornton and Fanny seemed genuinely shocked at learning that a lady should have a need to seek employment. Surely they would have been told of their situation by Mr. Thornton? But Mrs. Thornton would not let shock stop her from injuring further on her hostess.

"Mr. Higgins is on orders from my son. If there is anyone who you should thank for the kindness shown to you, it should be him."

"As I have yet to meet him, I will make sure to put credit where it is due."As finality Margaret bowed her head at Mrs. Thornton. Margaret knew she was trying to intimidate her, but in her father's house and presence she would not be belittled.

Mrs. Thornton straightened her posture and turned her whole body to Mr. Hale as a show of dismissal. Margaret did not mind.

With her mother fully occupied in conversation with Mr. Hale, Fanny took her chance to continue her interrupted conversation with Miss Hale.

"I do admire you Miss Hale. Having to move to a strange place and so fast make friends. I confess I am curious to the South and the ways not of the North." Margaret could barely hear Fanny's low whisper, obviously trying to keep her mother's attention from returning. But Margaret couldn't help but lean in further in complete understanding. She was intrigued by Miss Thornton.

"Thank you Miss Thornton. There really is not much to say about the South. I meant what I said about the hustle and bustle of the working class, they have been very kind."

"Is it true you seek employment? Forgive me but I thought you were a lady."

Margaret had to laugh at Fanny's naivety, "Well I was bred as a lady, but circumstances have forced me to find means of a salary."

Fanny seemed taken back at Margaret's honest words but was completely intrigued by this Southern woman. "I wish I could be as brave as you. I always feared the workers. Or at least they have feared us."

"Why have they a need to fear you Miss Thornton? You seem kindhearted enough." Margret wanted to say that she shouldn't scowl as she does and try to smile more but she knew better.

"Oh I did not mean…that is they don't fear per say, they just…Oh! They don't understand my brother!" Fanny stumbled over her words as if they weren't hers to say.

"Is your brother that horrible of a master?" Margaret couldn't help but ask after a man she knew she would have to speak to over business matters. She feared he was a harsh employer and would scare her off at the first chance to show her worth.

"Oh! No he is very fare, but I dare say the hands avoid him at all costs. I suppose it's just his presence that puts them off." Fanny seemed flustered talking about her brother, but Margret couldn't help but inquire further.

"Do you think your brother would grant me an interview Miss Thornton?" Margaret spoke extra low to avoid Mrs. Thornton.

"You? Work in the mill?" Fanny snorted derisively. After seeing the shameful face of Miss Hale, Fanny quickly recovered. "I'm sure my brother would be most kind to speak with you Miss Hale, but isn't there any other way that you…?"

Fanny stopped after Margret simply shook her head, suddenly Margret felt very low compared to Miss Thornton. Fanny took liberty and reached across the hold Margaret's hand that rested on her lap.

"I am sorry Miss Hale. I know you have lost your mother recently. You must miss her terribly."

"I do, thank you Miss Thornton. But like I said, there is no other way and I must seek employment." Margaret liked being so open with Miss Thornton and hoped she did not seem too forward with her honesty, but by the way they spoke to each other and Fanny showing true remorse with her actions, Margaret knew that wasn't the case with this fine lady.

"If you come by tomorrow around eight, before the mill is open, I'm sure my brother will be glad to hear your case. I will speak to him for you." Fanny said with a bit of an heir to her.

"Thank you Miss Thornton."Margaret smiled at Miss Thornton's determination.

"Please, call me Fanny."

_My Dear Edith,_

_Oh, how I have missed you these passed weeks. I confess with the task of preparing and moving to Milton, I have let time slip by me. I hope this letter finds you better. I am so sorry that I cannot be there with you in your time of mourning, but you know my responsibility is with my father. He still mourns for mother. His spirits have been made better by his pupils who have kept him busy and felt a sense of purpose. I dare confess that I do not know how to help him. _

_I have ventured out and sought employment, but there is nothing available. Mr. Bell urges me to go to Mr. Thornton who owns Marlborough Mills. You remember Mr. Bell, Edith? You met him when you visited us in Helstone. I was relieved that you took such a fright to him as I did. I knew it was not my fanciful imagination, as Mama put it. _

_You will think me silly dear cousin, but the thought of Mr. Thornton frightens me. And I have not even met him! But I have met his lovely sister. Edith you would adore her. She almost reminds me of you, she is of such a sweet temperament. She has set up a meeting between me and her brother, so I shall meet him tomorrow, then I will know what kind of a master he is. As long as he is true friend of my father, how can I treat him unjustly? _

_I have thought of Henry lately. I know you would scold me for even writing his name but I cannot help but think if he had truly loved me, we would be married by now. I suppose I should be grateful for the way things have come about. I would have hated to be in a loveless marriage. Oh! Here I am talking about marriages when you are missing your Captain Lennox!_

_You must think me of a childish nature. After all that you have been through, here I am fretting over inconsequential things. I do long to see you soon Edith. Please write to me and tell me how you fare. Give Aunt Shaw my love, for I do not know when I will see you all next. Wish me luck dear cousin. Even though this letter will reach you after I have met Mr. Thornton, it gives me strength to write this letter to you._

_With love,_

_Margaret_

After Margaret sealed her letter and snuffed out her candle, she climbed into her cold bed. The nights had turned freezing in Milton, which did nothing to quell the fear in Margaret's heart to what was to come in the morning. Margaret had received a letter from Fanny, not an hour after she and her mother left, saying that her brother would gladly accept a meeting with her.

Margaret dreaded that Fanny would remember her promise but was also grateful to her new friend. She had written her letter to Edith because it was well over due, but also Margaret could not shake the nerves from her limbs. She felt a little better writing down her fears, but still anticipated a restless night of sleep.

Margaret wondered if Mr. Thornton would be more like his sister or his mother. Would he be, as she feared, just like Mr. Bell? Or would he show compassion to her as he did her father? Margaret would not know until the morning, and with that thought she fell into a fitful sleep filled with disturbing dreams.

As in all dreams, the will to escape is all but impossible. There is always an unknown force keeping you from escaping the clutches of fear. As Margaret fled through the streets of Crampton she felt that she was being followed. Dark windows and empty alleys shifted and made Margaret's senses unknown in the already unfamiliar streets. She didn't know where home was so she followed her legs wherever they took her.

Turning a corner and collapsing against high wooden gates, Margaret fell in a heap. The doors before her stood towering over her, but in her heart she knew she had to get passed them, and then she would be safe! The green painted doors were chipped and worn but she still could not break them down. With all her might she pushed, hoping to be free from whatever was pursuing her.

Looking up to see if she could go over the gate, she saw words upon the gate but couldn't make them out. All she knew was that she would be safe once enclosed behind them.

She peered over her shoulder once more and upon seeing Mr. Bell approach her from a dark alley, her heart hammered within her chest. The closer he came the more she wanted to scream, but couldn't.

Looking back through the gate she could see her father, pale as a ghost, but he was talking to someone. The stranger had his broad back to her but she could see he was taller than her father and he had dark hair. Everything was dark in Milton, even her father seemed more suited to Milton pallet standing with this stranger. She wanted him to move away from that man. If only she could get passed these gates and go to him! She opened her mouth to call to him, but no sound came out of Margaret's quivering lips. The dark man had turned her father from her. She was frantic! She felt the loss of her father as if he had forgotten all about her or died!

Margaret frighteningly stole one more look over her shoulder, her vision blinded by a presence right behind her. Mr. Bell had come for her and he found her in Milton! The urge to scream was too much for Margaret as she looked into her godfather's dark eyes. As he put a hand possessively on her shoulder Margaret woke up.

With a heave she sat bolt upright unable to catch her breath. The night had turned stormy and the rain fell in great big drops on the roof. The sound drowned out her laboring breaths as she tried to forget what she had just dreamt about. The image of her godfather so close to her, she could swear she felt his breath on her cheek, would not leave her mind. The rain against her window made soft shifting shadows throughout her room. It made Margaret even more unsettled with the relentless downpour of the rain.

After regaining her composure and trying to go to sleep one again, Margaret could have sworn she saw the shadow of a figure pass by her window, but as she fell asleep she didn't know whether it was real or part of another dream that would keep her from sleep this night.


	4. Chapter 4

I Dare Not Hope Ch: 4

The incessant rain did not stop pounding on the Hale's roof the whole night. Margaret woke again, after falling asleep with the memory of a shadowy figure by her window. Surely she had dreamt that. Margaret could hardly try to forget her wakeful dreams or ignore the dancing shadows playing on her bedroom wall, casting images of faces and specters that fuelled her fearful imaginings. Being awake for the second time that night, she fought the urge to light a candle to ease her emotions. She would not waste lighting a candle for her silly musings in the middle of the night. But still, as Margaret lay pondering her dream, she doubted she could forget it so easily or feel at ease with the warmth that a light would give her.

She feared, now more than ever, going to see Mr. Thornton. How would the man himself compare to the figure she saw in her dreams? She thought obsessively over the image of her father being shielded by Mr. Thornton's form. In the dream Margaret felt at ease by his presence. The real fear, she remembered was when her godfather had laid his icy hand on her trembling shoulder. She was glad to be awake from her nightmare. Now if she could only get back to sleep. She needed all the rest she could get, for tomorrow was a big day for Margaret Hale.

* * *

Margaret's eyes were still closed, but she could see the contrast of night and day behind her lids. No more could she hear rain, but the soft chirping of some bird outside her window. She let herself lazily open her eyes to the new day before her. All at once she realized that today was when she would meet Mr. Thornton. She hoped Fanny hadn't led on about her brother's character. Margaret huffed to herself. Even if Mr. Thornton was a harsh man, she would face him with equal determination, her family would expect nothing less from her, nor would she doubt her own character and strength.

Margaret rose from the comfort of her bed, stretching sore muscles that seemed to ache from lack of calm. The tense night would weigh heavy on her mind today. Straining her neck over her shoulder, Margaret peered out of her window that had evidence of last night's storm, dripping with the left over dew. Margaret remembered the terrifying vision of a form at her window. She knew she must have been dreaming, for her room was two stories up. She could clearly see the top of Marlborough Mills from her bedroom.

The sight of the industrial town with its dark buildings and jagged roof tops made Margaret miss home. For the first time since her mother's death and moving from Heltone, Margaret could see how such a place could be viewed as an oasis compared to the bustling town of Milton. She knew how her father must have been missing his old parish, especially with the loss of his wife added to the sorrow. But this is where they were now, and Margaret was steadfastly determined to make it home as well.

It must have been fairly early, since Dixon had not come to wake her mistress. Margaret pulled on her robe to go down stairs. Upon opening her door, Margaret could hear their maid in the kitchen. Dixon is up early too, she thought, the rain must have kept everyone awake. Climbing down the rickety stairs, which Margaret had grown accustomed too, she could now tell which floor boards would protest under her feet when she walked across it, she found Dixon in the kitchen. The maid's back was to Margaret as she entered and lightly knocked on the door. The faint tapping from Margaret's gentle touch, startled Dixon with a great yelp.

"There you finally are! You gave me a fright young mistress." Dixon said, still hurriedly trying to complete her task.

"What are you doing Dixon? You are up early to be baking." Margaret replied curiously.

Dixon became flustered all over again, "Oh, that man! To be here so early, with not so much as a warning to his visit. Your father has me to his tasks early for his _friend_." Dixon spat out the word friend as if she had a taste in her mouth she wanted to be rid of.

"Father has company? Who?" Margaret didn't know why she felt a sudden knot in her stomach. Ever since last night she had felt uneasy. To tell the truth, Margaret couldn't say she felt at ease at all while in Milton.

"That Mr. Thornton! Said he had an appointment he had to keep. Though I'm not sure it was with Mr. Hale, he seemed just as surprised as I was to have a visitor so soon this morn, but I led him up. He's with your father now as we speak." Dixon informed Margaret of their visitor, unaware at the horror Margaret felt at the unexpected presence of the mill owner.

"Dixon, what time is it?!" Margaret asked in a state of shock.

"Why, its past noon. Your father said to let you sleep through the morn again."

"Dixon, I had an appointment with Mr. Thornton early this morning! You should have woken me. I missed it, that is why he is here now. Oh no!" Margaret put her hand to her head to keep from crying out. She slept through the appointment, how she will ever meet him now! With his perception of herself already tainted by her tardiness. He will think me no more than a spoiled lady, not fit to work in one of his mills.

Dixon looked up at Margaret's cry of distress. Her mouth hung open, for once not knowing what to say. "You best get dressed mistress. They'll be waiting on you."

With that, Margaret leaped up the stairs, clutching onto her nightgown so as not to trip up in her hastiness. Her heart beat faster with the adrenaline of the situation. If her father knew, he would be disappointed, she knew that. Questions danced through her mind. Fighting for dominance as she tried to sort how it all could go so wrong.

Coming to the top of the stairs, Margaret could see the door to her father's study open slowly. She tried to make it passed the door undetected, but her father's voice carried out into the stairwell as the light from the room showed her to the occupants inside. Her father had opened the door wide while his face was still turned to whoever held his attention. As the door stood fully open Margaret stood in the hallway, in the full light, knowing she was seen. The occupant that was on the other side of the threshold of the entrance to her father's study, stared harshly at Margaret. If hate had a face, it would be this man. All in a moments glance Margaret could feel the weight of the glare that was directed towards her. Even as her father neglected to notice that his friend's attentions were distracted, Margaret wished her father would turn to see her, to save her from out of the hold this man's cold eyes had on her.

The man stood, and Mr. Hale seeing his friend was distracted turned to see where Mr. Thornton's gaze was held. Upon seeing the state of his daughter's dress, he shut the door quickly behind him stepping into the hall to shield his daughter. Just as the door closed, bringing darkness back over Margaret, she could just make out the blue ice from under the stern brow of Mr. Thornton.

"Margaret! What do you mean coming out here in your night clothes?!" Mr. Hale asked harshly.

"I woke late. I didn't know Mr. Thornton was here. I'm sorry, I'll go dress." Margaret turned to go to her room. The blush on her cheeks could be mistaken for her rushed flight up the stairs. But Margaret knew the cause was from a pair of stern blue eyes. Heat radiated up to her cheeks making her feel all the more flustered. She passed it off as embarrassment at her lack of punctuality and not being seen in proper attire.

"And another thing, why didn't you tell me you were meeting with Mr. Thornton here? If you feel ashamed of having to seek work Margaret, you know that you will not receive judgment from me." Mr. Hale told is daughter with a softer tone.

"Mr. Thornton said he was to come here?" Margaret asked, coming down from a step.

"Well, yes. He didn't specify when you two were to meet, but I told him I would wake you. But he quickly assured me to not trouble you or myself. He's been here ever since." Mr. Hale smiled.

Margaret was dumfounded. Why would Mr. Thornton say he was to meet her at her home when she was to meet him at his? She assumed he didn't want to embarrass her father with her lack of manners, she was grateful for the thought on her father's feelings. But she still had to face him, and they would both know she was in the wrong. With no more time to waste she went into her room to dress herself properly to meet Mr. Thornton formally.

* * *

As Margaret entered the room and shut the door behind her, the two men who had been waiting for her, stood to greet her. Now, in a white dress with her hair pulled into a perfect bun, Margaret stood proudly in front of her father and his friend. She wouldn't look Mr. Thornton in the eye yet, still reeling from the memory of the first glance with their powerful hold.

"Ah, Margaret, this is Mr. Thornton." Her father formally greeted them. "And this is my daughter, Margaret."

Mr. Thornton took one massive stride forward to eliminate the space between the two of them. He held his hand out in front of her. She could feel his gaze on the top her head, as he was at least one foot taller than her, and towered over her like a shadow.

Margaret gazed at the offered hand, and remembered her meeting with Mr. Higgins, how he had held his hand out in similar fashion but seemed to take it away with a bit of annoyance after she had not taken it. Margaret had the feeling she had caused him offence, so as to not repeat the same injury she reached her hand forward shakily to meet with his. She felt no awkwardness; he was here on business, for her sake at least. Mr. Thornton was in more of a state of shock at the contrast of the wild, flustered woman in the hall, to this dignified young lady before him. He felt sure he would play his part of the overbearing master when met with his teacher's daughter, but soon found himself willing to do the bidding of the young lady if she had commanded it.

She held her hand hovering by his, afraid to take the grip fully. He obliged her, thinking her haughty and took the offered hand into his, squeezing it slightly.

To Margaret's amazement, he had felt warm to the touch. That a man with such a cold demeanor could radiate heat, made the knot in her stomach lessen its hold. Finally, she looked up meeting his gaze and found the same stern eyes as before, but a twitch of his lips made his gaze falter on her and then turned to her father. Margaret was thankful for the moment to catch her breath and her senses.

Her father bade them to sit, while Margaret poured herself a cup of tea. Her father and Mr. Thornton had resumed a previous conversation started before her arrival. Returning to the group, Margaret sat across from Mr. Thornton. She could gaze at him to her leisure since his attentions were with her father. Besides the eyes that had held her in place the moment she saw them, Mr. Thornton seemed a normal man. Tall and dark, he held himself with pride which was evident in the way he held his focus and gave his opinion knowingly. The brow that covered the blue eyes tensed in thought at something said. While the mouth, with its thin lips, held firm.

He seemed in habit of authority but in the presence of her father he seemed to give over that rule as any young pupil would.

"I am glad you find the house to your liking." Mr. Thornton had said with a baritone voice that rattled Margaret's being. Mr. Thornton had been sure of his instinct that this house would do very well for Mr. Hale and his daughter. But upon seeing Margaret in the flesh, felt that maybe the homely Crampton would not do for a lady such as Margaret. Her dignified way of moving, even when pouring herself a cup of tea, had transfixed his mind completely. A strand of her hair had fallen repeatedly from behind her ear. He watched, transfixed as she showed no signs of frustration at having to keep pulling the strand behind her ear with her milky white hand.

"Margaret has done all of the arranging and redecorating." Mr. Hale broke through his daughter's and his pupil's inner thoughts, bringing them back to room.

"Then, I hope Miss Hale, that you find the house to your satisfaction." Mr. Thornton peered over to Margaret, hoping that he had done well in his choice for them. Although, she was completely unaware of the fact of his inner turmoil.

"It is very well, thank you Mr. Thornton. My father and I are more than pleased here." Margaret couldn't look directly at Mr. Thornton with her admiration, instead turning her gaze to her father.

Mr. Thornton was sure that he would not like her this morning, after dismissing their meeting, but now could not repress his admiration of her and her quiet way of expression.

He was angry, to be sure, when she had not shown herself at their appointed time at the mill. He questioned Fannie's insight to this Miss Hale, and questioned his sister's good opinion of the woman. After waiting for half an hour he decided to make his way to Crampton, if not as an excuse to see his new friend but to bring about Mr. Hale's daughter's lack of propriety. He had made a good friend of Mr. Hale and didn't wish to see him sink lower because of a frivolous daughter. Mr. Thornton took it upon himself to show the error of her ways. Lady be damned, she would know the ways of Milton conventions!

And seeing her in nothing but her robe and night shift, hair around her face, cheeks red, huffing from exertion, she looked like a wild thing, springing from a trap. He had held his firm opinion of her once she had shown herself in that fashion. He was never one to be wrong once his mind was set on something. Yet, here she was, making him doubt everything he was sure to find in her as faults. The way in which she spoke to her father, with such decorum and utter love for the older man, made Mr. Thornton realize that Fanny had spoken truly of the woman who had befriended his young sister.

"I am glad Milton has passed the taste of the South." Mr. Thornton said proudly.

"Yes, the North is certainly very different from our Southern ways, but we have managed. Haven't we Margaret?"

Margaret merely nodded.

"Mr. Bell informed me well I think, of your Southern lifestyle." Mr. Thornton confessed.

Margaret went rigid. Remembering her dream like it was real. She could feel the cool touch on her shoulder as if he was standing behind her. She shook away her sudden tremble and stood refill her father's tea.

"I do so long to see my old college fellow." Mr. Hale exclaimed. "It has been years, Margaret was but a girl the last time she saw her godfather."

"They are not close then?" Mr. Thornton asked Mr. Hale.

"No, by all means. Not since…" Margaret could tell her father was distressed thinking on Fred, she was quick to intervene when Mr. Thornton caught his distress and plowed on.

"It's just that he spoke so knowingly of Margaret, of the lady she is now, that I thought they had been close."Mr. Thornton's information of Mr. Bell caused Margaret such distress that she longed to change the topic to anything other than her godfather.

"I am distressed Mr. Thornton at the change of the wallpaper." Margaret turned quickly on them, with no signs of her reason for the turn of the conversation.

Mr. Thornton gazed at her quizzically. The brows that she noticed before, had creased with agitation.

"I am sorry Miss Hale if the wallpaper isn't to your liking."

"It is not the state of the wallpaper rather how they came to be that disturbs me." Margaret said not breaking her cold demeanor.

Where was the delicate lady? Mr. Thornton wondered.

"I do not understand Miss Hale." Mr. Thornton stood to tower over her, even from across the room, with her father in between them, he seemed to have a hold over her, not just with his gaze, but his broad shoulders and rigid back standing straight before her. Margaret faltered just the slightest but pushed on with agitation of thoughts of Mr. Bell.

"I mean, that we gave no indication that we would like them to be changed and yet they are different."

"Surely, your father informed me of his wishes before you moved into Crampton." Mr. Thornton urged. Why was she pushing this so hard, meddling in affairs that do not concern her? Affairs that would be best if let alone. Mr. Thornton was sure that the lady he thought dignified would cause him more trouble than he wanted to deal with. This Miss Hale would tempt him in more ways than one.

"He told no one but myself." Margaret didn't know what compelled her to argue the topic of the wallpaper, only that she needed someone to help her understand the mystery other than her father. But the way Mr. Thornton looked as if he knew exactly what she was speaking of, distressed her. She wished she hadn't brought the subject back up, especially to Mr. Thornton. So what did it matter that her father's wishes were mysteriously granted? He was happy, that should have been all the mattered!

"How can that be possible Miss Hale? How could I have known otherwise?"The way in Mr. Thornton spoke to her as if she was a child and he the adult, set her blood to boil. It reminded her of how Fred spoke to her.

"Indeed, I had wondered the same thing."Margaret said in the same fashion.

Just as both seemed to wish to end their interrogation of one another, Mr. Hale broke from his sorrow to try and make peace.

"What does it matter, Margaret? The wallpaper is what we wanted, however it came to be. Maybe it was my forgetful mind, maybe I had written to Mr. Thornton or even Mr. Bell." Her father implored her to drop the subject, and speak on it no more. Her eyes stung with tears at the sight of her father in distress. He seemed to be doing better, but she knew there would be moments harder than others.

Margaret wished Mr. Thornton far away from here.

After a silence, Mr. Thornton spoke again, trying to make his voice softer to the room and the changed feelings.

"Miss Hale, I came to speak with you on a business matter. Fanny has told me all about your situation and your hopes in a place at Marlborough Mills." He paused, seemingly trying to make sure of something. "But I cannot hire you Miss Hale. You are a lady, despite circumstance and I cannot justify having a lady work in a mill alongside the other hands."

"Mr. Thornton," Margaret said with still a haughty pride in her voice, "I am thankful you still find me socially acceptable, despite my…circumstances. But it is beyond that now. I need employment to assure mine and my father's comfort. I would urge you to reconsider."

"Do you even know what it takes to run a mill, Miss Hale?"The edge to his voice had returned and Margaret was aware that she wasn't treading lightly.

"Well, no. I admit I am ignorant of the ways of business. But surely one could learn."

"No, Miss Hale. I need experienced workers in my mill. I can't afford to have other hands slow down their work to help you. Which I am sure you will need." He said firmly.

"I see. Then we have no more to discuss, Mr. Thornton?"

"No, Miss Hale, unless you wish to berate me on other matters of decoration, then I will take my leave." Mr. Thornton stood up quickly, turning to shake hands with Mr. Hale. A small but sincere smile was given in friendship, but as he turned to Margaret the thin, firm lips returned.

"Miss Hale, I do hope after this we shall meet as friends." And not go poking into matters that she would do well to stay out of, he thought.

"That depends on the circumstances of friendship Mr. Thornton." With a curt nod and bow, Margaret saw Mr. Thornton to the door, showing Mr. Thornton that even as a lady she could hold her own. Despite being turned down from yet another job, Margaret told herself to hold her head high and trudge on through the unknown, even with the dismissal of Mr. Thornton, who she knew she could never hold in high esteem.

* * *

That same night, as Mr. Thornton returned to his home from the mill, he found his mother and sister sitting quietly in a darkened room, working on their embroidery. The familiar clack of the shoes on the hard wood told Mrs. Thornton that her son was finally home. Mrs. Thornton wore her usual black silk, not a thread out of place. Looking from her needlework, she glanced at the door to see her son hesitantly walk towards them. All he wanted to do was collapse onto his soft bed and forget all about the day he had had. Especially his meeting with the proud Miss Hale. He knew after their introduction that she already knew too much. At least too much for her to start questioning and keeping a keener eye on what went on in Milton. She had a sharper eye than her father, he would grant her that. That she was also the most beautiful creature he ever saw made no difference to him. At least that was what he tried to convince himself all day since seeing her.

"How is the mill?" His mother asked, returning her attentions to her task.

"Fine, as usual mother, no need to worry." He came up behind her and put a hand to her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"Something is bothering you." Mrs. Thornton wasn't asking, she knew her son was somehow in distress.

"It is nothing you need to bother yourself with." Changing the subject, he spoke to Fanny. "I met your friend today, Fanny." He said lightly.

"Oh, how is Miss Hale? I do hope you have treated her fairly John, as I rightly told her you would." Fanny said with a smile that brightened the dim room.

"I did not hire her if that is what you mean." Her brother said with indifference as he took off his jacket and loosened his cravat.

"Why ever not John? She is a good, trustworthy lady!" Fanny said standing up, leaving her embroidery on the chair.

"That is exactly why Fanny, because she is a lady!" John retorted back at his sister.

"No, there is some other reason! We can trust her John, I know we can!" Fanny said desperately.

"No! We involve no one, especially strangers to Milton!"

Fanny left in a huff, but before ascending the stairs she turned to her brother and said with a snarl, "You'll be sorry." And she went to her room.

After Fanny's absence, Mrs. Thornton stood by her son next to the window. The storm had returned and with it another sleepless night for John Thornton. It was safe to say he never had a goods nights rest in his life, but lately he had put it off completely. So much was hanging in the balance, so much to risk.

"What is going on?" Mrs. Thornton asked, in her deep voice that was the polar opposite of her daughter's. "Why trouble yourself over a clergyman's daughter?"

"You know that is not it, mother." John turned from her, unwillingly to look his mother in the eye while lying to her. He knew she would see through him anyways.

"Do not get caught up by a penniless girl." His mother warned.

"I won't! I am not easily caught, but I will not have Miss Hale spoken of in that way. You know how it offends me. Besides, I know Miss Hale would have no wish to try and catch me. I made sure of that tonight." Mr. Thornton would not tell his mother that he was afraid of Miss Hale, and what she might know or learn to know. For now he would keep her safe, and hope she didn't try anything foolish.

Mr. Thornton bid his mother goodnight. After both her children were in their rooms, Mrs. Thornton stayed in the dark room, pondering over Miss Hale. Despite her son's wishes, she would hate Miss Hale.

A/N: A special thank you to eknight07 who gave me some helpful tips and advice with the character of Margaret Hale. I know she is not exactly true to her character as in the book, but this has been done on purpose to suit my story. Nonetheless, I am trying to make her a strong and likeable character to the original. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint with the fateful meeting between Margaret and Thornton. Please review! (:


	5. Chapter 5

I Dare Not Hope Ch: 5

It had been two weeks since Margaret had seen Mr. Thornton and been refused by him to work in his mill. He had come and gone to the house to visit her father for their studies, but Margaret made sure to keep hidden, helping Dixon in the kitchen as much as she could. Though Dixon benefited with the extra help, she couldn't help but notice why her mistress was suddenly eager to help with house work. She let it be as it was not her place to question.

Anytime Dixon had needed some ingredient or such from the market, Margaret would quickly offer her services. She was relieved for any excuse to leave the house, if only to avoid the ever present Mr. Thornton in her home.

After Margaret had seen Mr. Thornton to the door over two weeks ago, she thought and wondered over the kind of man Mr. Thornton made himself to be. It was evident the proud mill owner was aware of the power he held and wielded this knowledge to his liking. But to Margaret's surprise, he seemed to cast all that aside in rejecting her plea to work in his mill. Whether he felt she was not good enough to be another one of his hands to command or simply because he thought her too much of a lady, was a mystery to Margaret.

Still, no such luck could be had for Margaret. Every where she went she was turned away when seeking employment. The little money she and her father had left was dwindling fast. Just to keep the two of them plus Dixon living comfortably had taken more than Margaret anticipated. Margaret became even more desperate to find something she could do to earn her keep when she noticed her father's ailing health. As hard as he tried to conceal it from her, he had no idea his only daughter could hear his coughing fits in the early hours of the morning. Margaret told Dixon to take extra care on her father and make sure his tea was always plentiful. Which was the hard part for Margaret as they couldn't afford to live so frivolously, even when Margaret vowed to take as little as possible for herself.

That is how Margaret found herself on the opposite side of town this day, past the mill. She had yet to venture to this part and was hopeful to find any kind of employment. As Margaret walked down the busy street passing by the bustling shops and merchants with their wares, she could feel how bitter the cold air had become. It was now December and the thought of Christmas and the jolly festivities was on everyone's mind. But for Margaret it was bittersweet. Her fondest memories were of her mother and even Fred during Christmas. She missed how carefree and innocent she felt when she and her brother were younger. It would have been about this time that decorations and plans would have been made for the anticipated day. Now, for Margaret it seemed like a lifetime ago.

Margaret found that she enjoyed this walk past the mill. It expanded her mind to find that Milton was a rather large place and she could easily get lost in it. There was a place that she had found that overlooked the whole of Milton. She stopped to look over the broad cramped town where smoke and fog hung eerily over the tops of buildings. She noticed for the first time that it was the quietest it had been since they arrived in Milton. The noise of the town, the people and the mill became muted as she stood overlooking her home from the hill. Moving on down the other side of the hill, Margaret found a small collection of hedge stones and found the discovery quite odd since it was nowhere near a church.

Margaret wished she could visit her mother's grave. _If only I could speak to her once again and not feel so alone._ Margaret still had not received a letter back from her cousin Edith. She hoped it wasn't due to the heartbreak she knew her cousin must be feeling. But still, she needed her cousin's words and guidance and hoped that Edith would benefit with the same comfort from Margaret. Margaret made up her mind to write to Edith again as soon as she returned home.

Margaret turned on hearing a pair of footsteps behind her on the gravel of the path. A young woman, perhaps Margaret's own age was walking through. To Margaret it looked as if the woman was meant to be somewhere and had taken this path before. Margaret took the chance and sought out the young woman, hoping she would oblige her and let Margaret accompany her on her walk into town. Margaret quickened her step to meet the hurrying woman.

"Excuse me?" Margaret stopped when the blonde looked at her and narrowed her eyes at the sight of Margaret. "I'm sorry to have startled you, my name is Margaret Hale."

A glaze of realization came over the woman as if she had expected it to be her. _Strange_, Margaret thought, _to be a stranger and feel as if everyone already knows you_.

"I know you, you're the clergyman's daughter. The one who left the church."

Margaret didn't know what to say to that, surprised to hear her father so openly talked of in this manner like the woman had known her and her father.

After a pause of silence the blonde woman said, "I'm Bessie, Bessie Higgins."

"Higgins? Are you related to Nicholas Higgins?"

"He's my father."

"And Mr. Thornton's footman."

Bessie nodded, with an air of knowing in her eyes while looking at Margaret. It made Margaret shiver, even as warm as she felt with her coat and shawl, she couldn't shake the uneasiness this woman made her feel.

"Do you have an appointment to keep?"

Bessie arched her light blonde brow at Margaret.

"I only meant to inquire if you would let me accompany you into town. I'm still not sure of my way, you see I'm looking for a position."

Bessie snorted, "What, you? I don't believe it."

"Believe it or not it has been my task since we came here to find a suitable job for myself."

"Well," Bessie said with a satisfied smile, "Looks like most everyone was wrong about you." Bessie started to walk away from Margaret down the hill, it left Margaret no choice but to follow behind.

"I'm sorry you said they were wrong about me? Who?"

"Bein' a new face in Milton and already scheming with the likes of the Thornton's, people are bound to make assumptions. Not sayin' it's my place mind you to talk about the master, especially one my father works for. But the Thornton's, they definitely have a reputation. You'll soon find for yerself."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. If you mean that the Thornton's are a proud overbearing sort of family then I can assure you…"

"Like I said, you'll see for yerself, in time."

Both women had stopped short of their walk, assessing each other when Bessie gave a most ungodly snort of laughter which in turn Margaret was helpless not to react the same, though a little more dignified.

"Come on, I was just on my way home. You can walk with me if you'd like. And you can tell me where you've already looked for a job."

Margaret relayed all she had done and all the places she had seen to and every one of them had nothing to offer. After telling Bessie of her refusal from Mr. Thornton, Bessie swung around towards Margaret sharply and looked wide eyed at Margaret.

"You went to Thornton? Why'd ya do that?"

"His sister assured me he would be more than obliging to meet with me as an equal. Although he turned me down I cannot say that he was ungentlemanly towards me."

"Why ever would he turn ye down? Mill owners are always looking for more hands." Bessie declared, confused by the thought.

Margaret merely shook her head, not knowing Mr. Thornton enough to reason his decisions herself.

"Does your father like working for Mr. Thornton?"

Bessie seemed to contemplate her answer, making sure she didn't say something wrong.

"The master's been good to my father, so he can't complain." Bessie smiled to reassure Margaret. "We live very comfortably compared to before, or so my father tells me."

"How long has he worked for Mr. Thornton?" Margaret asked, trying to put the puzzle pieces together in her head.

"As far back as I can remember. Before I was born even." Another cloud came over Bessie's face and Margaret knew something wasn't right. Bessie was trying to hide something.

"That would mean your father has worked for Mr. Thornton for over fifteen years. I thought Mr. Thornton was only in his early thirties?" _That can't be right_, Margaret wondered.

"Enough talk of Thornton, do you want to come to my house or not?" Bessie said quickly with a glimmer of a smirk that was meant to reassure Margaret.

Margaret would be patient to find out about the mystery that the Thornton's seemed to have clouding around them, there would be more times to talk to Bessie. But she wasn't sure why she had the sudden feeling of curiosity. After all, Mr. Thornton had become a good pupil and friend to her father. But this whole town seemed like one big mystery waiting to be discovered. Margaret wasn't sure whether she was ready to see past the façade, if indeed there was one.

Walking side by side in silence, Bessie and Margaret looked comfortable in each other's presence, despite the awkward turn their conversation had taken. Margaret wasn't sure if she would like Bessie Higgins, but she admired her willfulness and complete lack of decorum when it came to saying what she thought. Margaret thought it was a great change to the London society where you could never be sure if someone was right out lying to your face, just for the sake of propriety.

The part of town Margaret found herself in was a lot drabber in comparison to even Crampton, which had its eye sores in abundance. The murky green walls and muddy floors made Margaret conscious of her dress as she lifted her skirts to keep the hem from being soiled. Since Margaret couldn't afford to buy more dresses in the near future she had to keep the ones she had now in the best condition.

Bessie looked behind at Margaret with her lifted skirt and petticoat and shook her head from laughter.

"Careful you might offend the likes of us. We don't take kindly to too many airs."

Margaret didn't know whether Bessie was teasing her, so she let her hem drop on the floor, aware of every puddle and dirt path she walked across.

* * *

Margaret had stayed with Bessie well past a few hours when Nicholas Higgins came home. The two girls, who became fast friends, looked up at the open door. Bessie was surprised to see her father home so soon, but realized time must have slipped by her with the presence of Miss Hale.

Bessie stood, seeing the glare of disapproval in her father's eyes at seeing who was a guest in their homely house.

"Father, you know Miss Hale." Bessie said nervously.

Margaret sensed the tension and fought to meet Nicholas' eyes. When she did, she looked quickly to the floor, unsure of how to act in this situation. _Was I not welcome? Did I miss some sort of Milton etiquette?_

"Aye, I remember Miss Hale. Though I didn't expect to see you again so soon, nor in my home." Nicholas dropped his coat over the chair making his way towards the fire place that was humbly giving off very little warmth to the room.

After an awkward silence, Bessie gave her new friend a smile of apology and Margaret knew its meaning.

"Did you visit the Boucher's father?" Bessie asked her father, who was still brooding over the fire place.

"Aye, and they're no better than the last time I saw them." Nicholas sounded tired to both the women's ears.

Margaret looked away from the pair trying not to interfere but unsure whether she should excuse herself.

"Is there nothing you can do? Or Mr. Thornton?" Bessie pleaded.

"Bessie, I'll not have you speaking about this in front of her." Nicholas warned his daughter, pointing in Margaret's direction.

Bessie made a motion to Margaret that it was time for her to take her leave. She walked her to the door leaving Nicholas to himself. Bessie walked with Margaret to the corner of the street to see her off. It was starting to drizzle as the dark clouds formed overhead.

"I'm sorry Miss Margaret, if I had known about the time I wouldn't have let you stay so long." Bessie looked sheepishly at Margaret, hoping she didn't offend her new friend.

"Do not worry over me Bessie. I confess I am still unaccustomed to the different lifestyle you Northerners have compared to Helstone. How long do you think it will take me to feel at home I wonder?" Margaret mused mostly to herself with a smile.

"I should imagine a few years at least."

Margaret laughed at Bessie's attempt to humor her. They both smiled.

"Father gets himself worked up sometimes worrying about the others that can't help themselves. He feels guilty I think that he's better off than most of his friends. And they have more children then you would want .You see my sister Mary and my mother died before Thornton hired him. Childbirth killed them both. He blames himself for everything. Our neighbors, the Boucher's you heard us talk of," Margaret nodded, embarrassed that it was obvious she was trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but failed, "Boucher worked for Thornton once, but was let go on account of I don't know what. He's a strange one, saying the oddest thing about Mr. Thornton being a devil of a man. They have six children. They'll be dead by Christmas if nothing is done. But there's not much we can do."

"And Nicholas won't ask Mr. Thornton as you said." Margaret concluded.

"It's not that I think he won't. My father's too proud you see. Thornton has done so much for us, father's afraid to ask for more." Bessie said, as the rain started to fall heavily on both their heads.

"I see."Margaret felt for the Boucher's and their children, she wondered if there was something she could do, but remembered her father's health. _Surely someone like Mr. Thornton would be willing to help a starving family_, Margaret hoped. She was unsure of why Boucher had been thrown from the mill by Mr. Thornton. Margaret made a mental note to herself to bring it up to Fanny to hear the whole story. Maybe from there she could implore on Mr. Thornton's good nature to help the poor family, possibly even hire him back on. But she wouldn't know until she talked to Fanny.

"Bessie, it's time to come inside now." Margaret saw Nicholas come from inside their house with the same moody glare on his brow.

"I hope to see you soon Margaret." Bessie said as she went back to her house.

"Me too Bessie, thank you." Margaret watched as Bessie entered her home and received another hard stare from Mr. Thornton's footman.

* * *

Margaret tried to make it home as fast as she could under the now pouring rain. She was soaked through by the time she arrived back to Crampton Street. As deserted as the streets were, Margaret couldn't help but look over her shoulder after every corner she turned. It was hard enough seeing through the pelting rain, but even more unnerving when she felt the familiar prickle up her spine like she was being watched again. The visions of her dream came back to her.

She bolted towards the last corner she knew would lead her home when she collided head on with a bulky frame. The hands wrapped themselves around her upper arms steadying her. Looking up into the eyes of Mr. Thornton her breath caught in an apology as she saw he was just as surprised as she was. He seemed dumbfounded for a moment but regained whatever composure he seemed to lack when in Miss Hale's presence.

"Miss Hale, you should be home." He started to turn back where he came from taking Miss Hale with him.

"I was just on my way from a friend's house." Margaret tried to explain.

"What friend would let you walk home unattended?" He asked skeptically.

"A new one I'm afraid, and one without luxury to send me in a carriage." Margaret felt like she had to raise her voice over the pounding of the rain on the concrete. But Mr. Thornton seemed to have no trouble hearing her as he pulled her back to her house.

Once under the cover of her house Margaret pulled herself from Mr. Thornton's grasp, bringing a sudden chill to the arm that he had held. Mr. Thornton took the abruptness of her gesture as a sign that he had pushed too far, and regrettably started to take his leave from the Hale's once again. With a glower upon his face Mr. Thornton disappeared into the night before Margaret could thank him.

After Margaret attempted to dry herself off, she went to see her father. Still, in his study where he had been with Mr. Thornton.

"Margaret, I'm glad you're home." He smiled at his daughters flushed face, assuming it was from the cold outside, unaware of whom she had run into down the street. "Mr. Thornton just left, I'm afraid you missed him."

"Yes. I did miss him. How was your day father?" Margaret asked, knowing he wouldn't tell her if he had been feeling ill at all.

"My time with Mr. Thornton did just the trick. I'm quite fond of his company. He makes me feel young again."

"I'm glad father." Margaret kissed his brow, noting how chilled he felt.

"You had a message sent for you while you were away. By the way where did you go my dear?"

"I met Mr. Higgins's daughter, Bessie. She was kind enough to show me around. I'm afraid we got caught up. I don't think Mr. Higgins was too fond of me at his house." Margaret said regrettably.

"These Northern men are quite proud, don't take it personally Margaret." He patted his daughter's arm to sooth her.

"I won't father, I'm learning quickly how to fare in this industrial town I think." It wasn't so much the town, but the strange people that Margaret couldn't quite figure out. The more she ventured out and met people the more she wanted to recede into her home. But complications of their situation made that impossible, and Margaret knew that from the beginning.

"I won't keep you from your letter my dear, I'll bid you good night."

Mr. Hale and Margaret said their good nights on the stairs as he went to their own rooms. Margaret waited until she saw her father enter his room before she ventured up to hers. Walking up the stairs Margaret was mindful of the last step that creaked whenever she stepped over it. She had tried to remember it whenever her father was asleep as not to wake him. As she expected the floorboard gave a great groan as she stepped through her room.

Closing the door behind her, Margaret opened her letter hastily; anticipating that is was finally from Edith or her Aunt Shaw. A little disappointed that she had not yet heard from Edith, she still felt comfort that Fanny had taken the time and thought to write to her. Margaret had not seen Fanny since she and Mrs. Thornton came to visit over two weeks ago.

_Miss Hale,_

_I regret that I have not paid you a visit or written to you since our first meeting. Certain complications _

_have kept me busy. But as I now find myself available, I would be open to you paying me a visit at _

_Marlborough Mills. I long to catch up with you and see how your job hunting is progressing. I shall _

_expect you tomorrow around noon._

_Your friend,_

_Fanny Thornton_

Margaret folded the letter back into the envelope. She had dreaded this for two weeks. A friendship with Fanny meant she would now and again, and more often then she would like, have to come in contact with Mr. Thornton. She supposed it was for the best anyways. Even though she felt unsure of Mr. Thornton and his opinion of her, she knew many ties would be damaged if she were to outright ignore him. She could finally speak to Fanny about the Boucher situation, if Fanny felt it appropriate, then Margaret could appeal to Mr. Thornton for help. Even if Higgins would not ask, Margaret would try her best. Her mind danced around the image of the dark mill owner as he towered over her in the pouring rain.

* * *

When Mr. Thornton left Margaret safely in her home, he wondered if he was being uncivilized. He was aware, only after the fact that he had pulled Margaret down the street by her arm very forcefully. His only thought after catching her around the corner was to get her safely inside. _What was she thinking walking alone on a night like this_? No, he had done right. Civility be damned, he would not regret seeing her safely home.

The undeniable sting he felt at being taken from her grasp so suddenly had left him feeling quite cold. Colder then he was used to feeling in all his years. Her warmth and the kindness in her lovely eyes ignited a fire long forgotten in his chest. He couldn't dismiss it, this feeling. He knew it wasn't love. But for the possibility that such a creature would look at him with no inclination or prejudice on his past was enough for him, for the faintest moment to feel hope at her return of her affection.

Without thinking, and distracted by thoughts of Miss Hale his feet led him back to Marlborough Mills. He abruptly stopped before the tall green doors to look behind him to the shadows of the alley where he just ventured from. Seeing what only his eyes could see, he nodded at the presence making sure not to give himself away and turned back around to his home with a renewed fear for the safety of Margaret Hale.

A/N: I believe in the book the events take place over a course of a few years, I'm writing this story in a smaller time gap to match the pace of the series. Thank you for reading, sorry for the long wait. Please read and review!


	6. Chapter 6

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 6

A storm was coming.

John Thornton could see over the horizon of the hazy city, just where the fog met the outskirts of Milton. He knew by nightfall Milton would be under the cover of rain once again. Looking out through the window from his mill he could easily see all that went on beneath him. It felt strange looking out from the high window at his workers, watching them go to and fro in their tasks. He much preferred to be down with them, overseeing everything that went on around him. He could let himself become lost in the passing hours of the day if he kept himself busy with the mill.

But at the end of each day, as the whistle blew the signal that it was time to put work aside and return home, he longed for time to hold still. The leisure hours after the sun set behind the foggy horizon were his time, and his alone. He would come home to his mother and sister, finding them occupied in their womanly tasks, and take his place as the man of the house. As much as he enjoyed his work, as business was successful, he longed for the moments to himself. He spent a little while with his mother and Fanny to inquire what they did throughout their day, but his mind was usually set on retreating to his room.

But today, like all the other days for the past two weeks, he would ready himself for Mr. Hale at Crampton. He had taken up tutoring lessons with the old parson and thoroughly enjoyed their talks and discussions on the classics and the lack of romance and beauty that was not to be found in the works. Mr. Hale had laughed at the mill owner's attention to such a subject, but as Mr. Thornton must have realized, it wasn't everyday that a man of business took pleasure in the simple things. He felt like a boy again in the company of Mr. Hale, a boy who had missed and longed for the company of a father.

While Mr. Thornton thoroughly enjoyed Mr. Hales company, he couldn't help but wonder over the absence of his daughter. Every single time he came to call she was strangely absent. Mr. Thornton had long since expected that the lack of money and house staff would put some, if not all the responsibility on Margaret Hale. Mr. Thornton repeatedly felt guilty for the possibility of adding to the household chores when a guest was over. _Was_ _she in the kitchen? Was she out still looking for an occupation?_ The thought of Miss Hale out on her own seeking financial help was enough for Mr. Thornton to reconsider taking her on in his mill. _But how could he, when Miss Hale is obviously bred for more than being a hired hand. _He could not command her to do his bidding in the mill while knowing she would later be waiting on him in her own home. _No_, she was better off.

Mr. Thornton hoped that Mr. Hale would accept payment for his lessons. He still couldn't believe how a man with a daughter to care for wouldn't use this as an opportunity to free his family from the burden of possible destitution. He sometimes wondered whether Miss Hale would ever see him as a possible suitor, but quickly scoffed at the notion_. Miss Hale could obviously have any man of her choosing, why should she choose me?_ He thought bitterly. And yet he couldn't stay away from Crampton for the chance of seeing the beautiful Miss Hale and knowing her character better.

After making sure all was well at the mill, Mr. Thornton left for home that was only a few steps away. Walking through the black double doors that led to the parlor always brought some sense of relief to Mr. Thornton. Like all days before, he found the Thornton women seated in their usual arrangement. His mother, he noticed liked to sit with the light behind her adding to the foreboding outlining figure of the relentless headstrong woman, while his sister, dainty and fare as she was preferred the light to shine directly on her, it illuminated her pale skin and made her yellow hair shine like gold. Mr. Thornton often wondered whether Fanny took notice of the affect her beauty had, whether she was aware or not, you could never tell with Fanny. He smiled at his sister's indifference on her own presence and instantly thought that Miss Hale was the same way.

Margaret, as different as she was from Miss Thornton, had the same air of naivety when it came to the effect the women had over those around them. Mr. Thornton knew he had a weakness for beautiful, fragile things and women were no exception. Though a little in experienced as he was, he dote on his own sister and treated all women with equal respect and chivalry.

Walking through the room fully, bringing his presence to his mother's attention, he smiled at his mother as she raised her head from her needlework.

"How is the mill today John?" She inquired.

"The same as yesterday mother. We continue to do well." He smiled. It was the truth, but there was always the possibility that something could go wrong. He hoped that day would never come, especially knowing the wrath that would come from his landlord, Mr. Bell. Mr. Thornton swallowed hard at the thought.

Mrs. Thornton caught the unfamiliar look in her son's eye, and would question him later about it.

After a deafening silence as Mr. Thornton stood towering over the room, Fanny made a small sound like she was clearing her throat. But coming from Fanny it sounded so sweet that no one would ever have heard the noise or took notice of it. But Mr. Thornton, knowing his sister, stood at attention towards her. Mrs. Thornton wondered if Fanny ever truly realized how fond her brother was of her. Pride swelled up within her.

"I had thought of asking Miss Hale to come over for tea tomorrow." Fanny announced, still looking at her embroidery which John could see was frustrating her. She always got a little knot between her brows whenever she tried too hard at something.

"I don't think that would be very wise Fanny." Her mother cut in before her son could answer, knowing full well how eager he would be to have the Miss Hale over.

Mr. Thornton chose his words carefully, knowing that Miss Hale already irked something in his mother that he couldn't be sure of.

"Perhaps you are too harsh mother. If Fanny would like to befriend Miss Hale I see no reason she shouldn't be allowed to." His heart hummed a little more than usual in his chest at the mention of Margaret Hale. He turned from his mother to try and hide the effect she already had on him. But nothing would go unnoticed by Mrs. Thornton. She saw her son catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung above the fire place, he winced at his reflection, revolted by whatever he saw that he did not like. She regretted seeing this as she saw no reason why he should feel so lowly of himself. If it was any of Miss Hale's doing that her son should feel unworthy of her, then she was right in not letting her come to the house. In truth, Mr. Thornton's thoughts were confirmed that such a lovely creature as Miss Hale would never think of him as a suitor, especially if she found out whom he really was and what he was capable of. He almost regretted his decision all those years ago to join Mr. Bell, if it meant Miss Hale did not look at him with scorn, almost.

"You know my reasons for not wanting Miss Hale here." Mrs. Thornton replied to her son as Fanny continued to fiddle with her hoop and needle.

"No, I don't think I do." Mr. Thornton turned his gaze on her again, daring her to tell him how she really felt about Miss Hale.

"You know the danger associated with the Thornton name. Would you put her in such a risk?" Mrs. Thornton pushed.

After neither son nor mother replied, Fanny said, "John, Miss Hale would be far safer if she were right under our noses. If we avoid her company we do her more harm than good." The desperate look in Fanny's eyes tugged on her brother's compassion. He walked to her to stroke her cheek and gave her a half smirk.

Mrs. Thornton looked on, knowing she was defeated, in the end her son was master but Fanny could work him like a puppet. _No, she had no idea of the effect she had, especially on her brother_.

"Write to Miss Hale, Fanny. She can come tomorrow if she wishes." John said deeply to his sister, noticing how his heart skipped a beat saying Miss Hale's name out loud.

Fanny stood to kiss her brother on his sharp jaw. To John she seemed to bounce right out of her chair," I will write to her straight away to send it off as soon as possible."

"That won't be necessary. I am seeing Mr. Hale tonight. I will wait for your letter Fanny so I can take it with me." Mr. Thornton told her.

"Thank you, John." And Fanny flitted away, leaving her sewing behind on the chair.

After Fanny left, Mr. Thornton sat next to his mother. She appraised him knowingly, looking over his features that gave him away to her and herself alone.

"You will spoil her rotten." Mrs. Thornton declared.

"As if I haven't done so already?" John smiled knowingly to his mother.

"Are you sure about this, John?" Mrs. Thornton asked skeptically.

He knew she was speaking of Miss Hale. The danger that they risk associating with the Hales too closely, or anyone for that matter would put them at risk. But he would risk it, if it meant to protect Miss Hale at a closer advantage.

"I know what I'm doing." He said as finality, but knowing his mother this would be far from over so long as Miss Hale was involved.

"Do you? Is your heart ruling your head? Because if it is, I will not stand by and let her drag you down. You know what _he_ is capable of. You would risk everything?"

"I'll only risk myself!" John blurted out, standing up. "After everything we've been through I would not put you and Fanny through that again."

"I truly hope not. You are not yourself John. Do you even know Miss Hale?"

"I strive to know her mother. I try to be better for her. But how could anyone care for a man such as me?"

"If she really knew you, she would see the man I see." Mrs. Thornton said proudly. "If Miss Hale is a woman you would gladly risk everything for, you had better make sure she as worthy as you think."

Before he could argue with her, she was gone from the room. He was left with that final thought, if Miss Hale could never care for him, would he continue to protect her? The answer, he knew, without a doubt in his mind would always be, _yes_.

* * *

_My dear Edith,_

_I long to hear from you. I know you must be grief stricken still with your loss, but a single word from you would put my mind at rest. I need someone to talk to. I feel so alone. I can only tell you this with the strictest of confidence. My father would not hear of it. He seems to like Milton more than I ever could. I fear for him my dear cousin. He dwindles day by day. He is ill but cannot, will not see it. I am lost as of what to do._

_I've looked for guidance since my mother's passing, I do miss her terribly even more so now. I used to long to be away from Helstone but now I think my mother would have wanted us to stay there, in case Fred should ever come home again. Although I doubt it very much. I had thought of writing him telling him of our father, I know the risk but I cannot bear it alone. Do you think I should?_

_The strangest things have happened in Milton. I have met some interesting people. Fanny Thornton whom I told you about in my previous letter has written to me. I am to see her tomorrow. I admit although her mother and brother frighten me a little, I am relieved for the company. I met a sweet girl, Bessie Higgins, who is the daughter of Mr. Thornton's footman. It seems the Thornton's have connections everywhere._

_I feel like I'm constantly being watched, Edith. I cannot shake the feeling from my mind. I am afraid to tell father in his frail state and Dixon threatens to leave with talk of shadows and nightmares. I fear she is too fainthearted for Milton. I thought I was strong enough to bear it, but I cannot. Perhaps I am just lonely. I will write again to let you know how Fanny Thornton's visit did me. Please write to me Edith. A word will do. Just don't leave me alone in Milton._

_Margaret_

Margaret wiped her tears from her face before she would let them touch the drying ink. She felt better putting her thoughts onto paper, but still couldn't understand why Edith had not replied. She would keep trying, everyday if she had to, to reach her cousin.

She set the letter aside to be delivered on her way to the Thornton's tomorrow. She couldn't help but anticipate seeing Fanny, who she had wanted to call on after what she did for her. Even though her brother had refused her for work, she would be forever grateful for Fanny's kindness. The thought of seeing Mr. Thornton caused Margaret to toss and turn all night. In anticipation or fear, she couldn't decide.

* * *

Fanny had answered the door herself with a beaming smile that had an immediate effect on Margaret. Fanny showed her in like she was the lady of the house and Margaret wondered if Mrs. Thornton and her son would be joining them. As if Fanny could read her thoughts, she informed Margaret, "Don't worry, it will be just you and me. Mother and John will be busy at the mill."

Hearing Mr. Thornton referred to as _John_ made him seem so harmless on Fanny's tongue. Margaret realized she didn't know Mr. Thornton well enough and decided for Fanny's sake she would try to get to know his character better. She could really use a friend after all, and if she happened to get two in the end, well then she was better off.

"This is the parlor, we do most of our entertaining here." Fanny said proudly. "We will spend our time here Miss Hale. "If you would like to see the library or music room I'd be happy to show you."

"Thank you Miss Thornton." Margaret said shyly.

"Please, it's Fanny."

"Then I am Margaret to you as well."

They both nodded in agreement and sat down opposite from each other on the same couch. Fanny had called for tea and all was silent until the tea was brought, set and served. The ticking of the grandfather clock across the room thumped in Margaret's ears with the deafening silence, she wished for Fanny to say something while she tried to think of something herself.

Fanny beat her to it.

"I'm sorry you were refused by my brother, Margaret. I honestly believed he might at least give you a chance." Fanny told her with regret in her eyes.

"He is a man of business. I am sure he was doing right by the mill."

"He is always doing right, even when it seems wrong at the time." There was another silence as Margaret tried to understand her meaning. "So you have had no other luck in your venturing?"

"None. Even Mr. Higgins's daughter offered a few suggestions but no hope could be had."

"There is always hope Margaret. I take it your father is not a salary tutor?"

"He gives lectures and lessons as contribution to the community. He's always felt that education was the source of success. That is why he left the church. His conscience would not let him give sermons when he could put his teaching skills elsewhere. He thought he was better needed elsewhere."

"Your father is right Margaret, and very wise. That is something that Milton lacks, education."

"I'm surprised Fanny that you should think so. Pleasantly, don't get me wrong. It's just that with your brother…"

"Because my brother is a man of business his stubbornness would reflect on me as well? I know your meaning Miss Hale and I promise I do not take offence. You see my brother feels the same as I, or rather I feel the same as he. It is his position that holds him back from speaking his mind about such issues. If John had his way all his workers would be educated, and the little ones in school."

"What is it he is afraid of? Excuse me, I meant what will he think will happen if he made such a decision?"Margaret was intrigued to learn that a man of business would take an interest in their workers, slowly pieces of John Thornton were coming together.

"Not all the decisions concerning the mill depend on my brother." Fanny said derisively.

"Mr. Bell? Your landlord?" Margaret faltered and tried not to drop her tea cup.

Fanny nodded.

"So, if Mr. Thornton wished to help his workers the final say so would depend on Mr. Bell?"

Again, Fanny nodded.

"That would explain the Boucher's." Margaret whispered as she slowly sipped her tea.

"Boucher?"Fanny asked, familiar with the name.

"They are a family living next door to Bessie Higgins and her father. She told me they were at the brink of death. I was confused as to why Boucher was no longer in Mr. Thornton's employment or why no help was being given. I suppose I have my answer."

"You must realize Miss Hale that not all business is black and white. If my brother had his way this town would be thriving just as the mill is. My brother would see to it that the families of the hands that work for him would be taken care of. That is why Boucher was ultimately let go because he put the mill at risk once. My brother would not stand for one man being responsible for the death of many. He wouldn't wish to see them as we once were."

"What do you mean Fanny?"As intrigued as Margaret was as to the details surrounding Boucher, she became more interested in the secrets of the Thorntons.

"If I say Margaret, I tell you in the strictest confidence. John and mother would be furious with me if they knew." Margaret nodded, giving her vow of silence, already too intrigued to back away now. "When I was just a babe, our father died. No, he killed himself. He was a gambler and we were left penniless because of his irresponsible ways. He couldn't bare the shame and took his own life."

"I'm sorry Fanny."

"As I said I was just a baby, so what I tell you is only what I've heard from John. He gave up school to earn money for our survival. Which he did, slowly but surely. He was able to put just enough away to keep us off the streets. When John was just entering manhood, that's when we met Mr. Bell and he offered us more then we could imagine. He gave John position as the head of the mill. Soon we flourished and John has been successful ever since. It's because of my brother that I only remember the life he made for mother and me. I can see it though, when he wishes it was different. Even though he would never admit it, he misses our father."

Margaret didn't know what to say. It was pointless to say sorry, but Margaret could almost relate to Mr. Thornton. Her situation didn't seem half as bad as what the Thornton's went through.

"Did you know, Fanny, Mr. Bell is my godfather?" Margaret asked.

Fanny seemed shocked and almost revolted. "I didn't Miss Hale." Margaret noticed Fanny went back to using her proper name. "Boucher was fired for endangering the lives in the mill, including my brothers. He lit a pipe you see and with the fluff of the cotton, well a flame could be quite a danger. But Boucher was always giving my brother a problem, he tried to put it aside but when he became too inquisitive, John had no choice to let him go." Fanny admitted.

It seemed both women were at the point of revealing all the secrets they could share. After a long pause of understanding, Fanny asked, "Would you like to see my father's portrait?"

Margaret could hardly refuse with the longing look that came over Fanny's face. Margaret could sense that Fanny missed her father as much as Mr. Thornton did, even though she couldn't remember him. Margaret could understand the longing of a long lost parent. Even now it was hard for Margaret to bring a clear likeness of her mother in her mind. _At least_, she thought, _Fanny had a portrait to remind her_.

Fanny led Margaret up the staircase to a room at the end of a dark hall. Before Fanny opened the door she turned to Margaret.

"This is my mother's room." She warned. And Margaret nodded in understanding, her heart hammering in her chest.

Fanny opened the door to a darkened room that was filled with hanging curtains from ceiling to floor. All the dark hues screamed Mrs. Thornton. The portrait hung center over the fire place that was directly across from the neatly made bed. Margaret briefly wondered if Mr. Thornton's room looked the same.

"Every time I look at his picture, a little bit of my own memory fades away."

Margaret peered closer at the stern brow, dark hair and faint smirk at the corner of the lips. "He looks just like Mr. Thornton." Margaret gasped.

Fanny nodded in agreement. "Sometimes I wonder if John realizes it too. I know my mother sees it whenever she looks at him. I try not to notice it, I can't bare the thought of John having a likeness to my father."

"Fanny!?"

The two women whipped around at the sound of the irate voice behind them.

"Mother?" Fanny was petrified and so was Margaret. Margaret could feel her knees starting to give way, every nerve in her body told her to run away, but Mrs. Thornton blocked her escape route.

Mrs. Thornton glared at her daughter as Fanny bowed her head in fear and shame. When Mrs. Thornton's eyes came upon Margaret, she thought she would collapse right then and there. She could see the rage boiling behind Mrs. Thornton's normally cool facade.

"I'm surprised at you Miss Hale that you would not think it wrong to barge into my rooms."

"It was not…" Fanny started to protest but the look from her mother quickly silenced her.

"I will speak to you later Fanny, go."

With a quick glance to Margaret, Fanny bolted from the room making sure not to get to near her mother.

_No_, Margaret pleaded after Fanny left, _do not leave me_.

Mrs. Thornton took a few steps towards Margaret, but stopped short to gaze at the portrait behind Miss Hale. Margaret regretted what she had done, she should have known better. But to know the Thornton's better was all that she desired. They were such a mystery to her and the thought of Mr. Thornton, she didn't know why she was so curious about the master of Marlborough Mills but she had to know him.

"I am very sorry Mrs. Thornton, Fanny didn't mean…" Margaret tried to plead with Mrs. Thornton.

"I know how sorry you are. Fanny was foolish to think you would benefit by being in our company, but she was wrong. I do not wish to know you better Miss Hale. Nor I think does my son." Mrs. Thornton sneered at Margaret, daring her to argue.

But she could not. What right did she have to know any of them if she took these measures to find out? Why did her imagination of the mysteries of the Thornton's get out of hand when they were just a respectable, private family.

Margaret was ashamed and Mrs. Thornton knew it.

Without another word Margaret fled from the room. As she ran down the hallway she could hear Fanny sobbing from behind her doors. Margaret too could not help the tears that fell. Tears of shame, shame that she should be so ignorant as to let her musings get the best of her. She raced towards the front door, quickly grabbing her hat and shawl.

Upon opening the door, letting the light into the dark entryway, Margaret was stunned to see none other than Mr. Thornton standing before her.

He saw the tears on her cheeks and the distress written upon her face. She couldn't bear to look at him, knowing he would soon learn what she had done and how he would hate her then. More tears fell against her will.

"Miss Hale what is the matter? Is it your father?" He brought her back into the house but she resisted, wanting nothing more than to flee from this place forever.

"I have done wrong, please let me go!" Margaret begged, turning her face to the light outside. Freedom was a few steps away. All she had to do was to release herself from Mr. Thornton's grasp. If it wasn't for the fact that she knew he would scorn her actions once he knew, she would have thrown herself into his arms for comfort. The struggle was too much for her.

"Wrong? Miss Hale what has happened?" He was close to hysterics himself. _Why was she trying to run away? Why was she always trying to get away from him? _He realized he was holding onto her. As he let her go he couldn't ignore the fact that she let her shaking hands linger on his for just the faintest of moments. Nor the look in her eyes that pleaded with him. _For what? What did she want from him?_

She backed herself against the wall, holding onto herself for comfort, "I'm sorry Mr. Thornton." And with that she ran from him. He started to go after her but stopped himself. All he could do was watch her fly across the courtyard, disappearing behind the corner. He held himself upright with one hand on the door the other in midair as if he could stop her by sheer will alone.

_What had happened? Where was Fanny? His mother?_ He raced through his house trying to find either woman. Fanny, he could hear, was in her room. His mother's door, down the hallway, was wide open, he rushed to it. Finding his mother's back to him and looking at his father's portrait, he sensed something was wrong within the room. The picture of his father seemed to look down at him with scorn. He never came in here because of that portrait. The relentless hold his father had even after death, and the reminder of failure was something John didn't need.

"Mother, what has happened?"

After she did not reply or acknowledged his presence, he pressed again.

"Miss Hale, she was distressed and Fanny also. Mother, tell me what happened?!" His stern voice commanded her to turn to him, but she did not diminish the look of hate from her eyes.

"That girl is too inquisitive for her own good. She was in here John, my room, looking at your father's portrait." She said with venom on her tongue.

"She was looking at the portrait?" John couldn't see the fuss of such an act. Obviously Fanny was keen to share their father, although he couldn't stand even now to take another glance at it.

"Yes. She may have stolen you away from me, but she will not take him from me!" She pointed to the portrait that John couldn't help but look at now. It was almost like looking in a mirror, he glanced away. He was confused at his mother's meaning. "I have stood by while she claimed your heart day by day, but she will not take my husband from me!"

Mr. Thornton understood his mother's distress, but couldn't fathom her reasoning. "Fanny only wanted to show her our father, mother. You will always have me and the memory of father." He assured her.

"You can't see it can you? The hold she has on you. You are blind as well as naïve to think such a girl would have you."

The pain of the truth of his mother's words cut through him like a dagger. The portrait of his father seemed to laugh at his pain.

"I know she would never have me, I've known since the beginning. But don't ever say I am blind to the fact." Mr. Thornton was furious to be made a fool of. How could his heart not hope that Miss Hale would come to care for him? With the way she looked at him just moments ago, how could he not see that he may have a chance? If not for the confirmation of his mother's words he would laugh at the statement and say his mother need not worry. But it hurt, in his heart he knew he loved Margaret Hale, without the expectation of her feelings in return. He would have to live with the unshared feelings till the end of his days. But nothing would stop him from trying.

"She is not worthy of you, John." She finally explained.

"Do not say so. Not when you and I are the ones that need to beg her forgiveness." John told his mother sternly, no longer sensitive to her feelings about sharing his heart.

"_Her_ forgiveness?" Mrs. Thornton asked skeptically.

"She has done nothing wrong. Yes, she shouldn't have come to your rooms, but that was Fanny's doing. Miss Hale need not be chastised for looking upon a portrait of a dead man." Mr. Thornton was satisfied in his argument, he made to leave.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"To see to Fanny, I believe she was innocent in this also."

Mrs. Thornton fumed with the desire to defend her rights as a mother and wife, that her feelings should be put aside for the sake of one lowly girl made her hate her all the more. That her son had fought her in this and taken the side of the accused made Mrs. Thornton wish Mr. Bell would soon show himself in Milton.

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one, I spent a few days on it trying to really pull the tension together and develop the uncertain feelings on Margaret's half. It's my favorite so far. Please read and review to let me know how the story is doing out there. Thank you for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 7

The pounding pulse in her head would not stop. After crying herself to sleep, Margaret woke with thoughts of the previous day. Still ashamed and embarrassed to have been caught doing something so deceitful and unforgiveable. How could something as simple as looking at a portrait turn into something so wrong? The Thornton's obviously didn't care for the fact of their father's and husband's death to be widely known. His memory was something that they cherished amongst themselves.

_And poor Fanny_. Margaret thought of how this could affect her. Especially the relationship between her and her brother. Margaret would hate herself if the bond between brother and sister was somehow severed because her thoughtless actions. Now that Mr. Thornton surely knew, did he hate her as his mother did? Would they let Fanny see her again? Margaret had to think that her time getting to know the Thornton's was probably over for good.

Not wanting to alert her father of Dixon that anything was amiss, Margaret dressed herself for the long day ahead of her. Margaret walked out of her room, comforted by the ever present creak in the floorboard outside her room that usually alerted her father that she was awake.

She was surprised to find her father by the door, dressed in coat and cap ready to go out. He didn't seem fit enough to be standing up, let alone going outside in the frigid weather. Snow had fallen last night as Margaret ran home from the Thornton's. She always loved the peace that came with the snow fall, but today she would prefer anything to a silent, slow day.

"Father, what are you up to?" Margaret came over to him to kiss him on the cheek. It did not go unnoticed how cold he was, she fastened his scarf around him tighter.

"I was going to go to church this morning. I feel quite myself today and would like to attend."

"Are you sure? It's quite cold out." Margaret did not like the idea of her father going anywhere in his state, even if he said he was well.

"Yes, I am quite determined. Would you go with me Margaret?" She could see the worry in his eyes that she might say no. But how could she let him go alone? She would have to face the Thornton's if they were going to attend, but she would be brave today, even if she didn't feel in the least brave to do anything but stay indoors where no one could see her.

* * *

The church was full by the time Margaret and her father got there. Margaret thought it perfect as there were no seats at the front. They could sit in the back unseen by anyone. Once she got her father settled she couldn't help but look around the church and try to determine by the back of all the heads in front of her, if any of them were the Thornton's.

To her horror, she could recognize Mr. Thornton anywhere, and found him with his mother and sister on either side of him, seated near the front. As if he could sense her presence he turned and looked straight at her. No smile was given or even an acknowledgment of her attendance. He made eye contact with her but whispered something in Fanny's ear. His sister soon turned around and gave a kind smile and wave to her. Margaret was relieved that he had seen her, and she could get through the morning and future meetings to come without the anticipation.

The service was long but Mr. Hale seemed to enjoy it immensely. Margaret was glad, in spite of everything, else that she came.

When everyone filed out of the church around noon, Margaret tried to make a quick escape with her father but he stopped her, oblivious to her haste.

"I will speak to Mr. Thornton before we go." He smiled to her.

"Of course father." They waited to the side for the appearance of the Thornton's from the church. Bessie Higgins and her father left the church and Bessie waved to Margaret as she was steered away by her father. Margaret tried not to feel the sting of yet another friend being shielded from the likes of her. _What must people think of me that they would not wish anyone to be in my company?_ She thought sadly, but she remembered the kind smile Fanny had shown her. Margaret had hope. Of course, the Thornton's were the last to leave the church.

Before Mr. Thornton could see Mr. Hale, Fanny saw Margaret and rushed to her immediately.

"Oh Miss Hale, I am so glad you attended church today." Fanny gave a great smile and embraced Margaret, to her joy.

"As am I Fanny." Margaret said happily.

"Don't mind me Margaret," her father said, "You may go with your friend."

"Are you sure father?"

He smiled to his daughter and her concern, "Yes my child, go or Miss Thornton will burst at the seams." He chuckled. Margaret saw Mr. Thornton go to her father just as she left his side, thankful for his presence in his frail state. She felt that Mr. Thornton must know that his friend was ill.

As soon as Margaret and Fanny were alone, Fanny spoke with regret, "Margaret, I am more sorry then I can say. What happened yesterday…"

"Please, Fanny you need not apologize to me. I know the mistake I made and I am the one who should be sorry. Especially to your mother." _And to your brother, if he would have my apology_, she thought.

"No, Margaret, I was thoughtless to my mother's wishes. Please do not blame yourself."

"I think we will both agree to not blame each other then, Fanny." Margaret smiled.

"I would be quite satisfied with that." Fanny said happily.

"Are they quite angry with me?" Margaret dared to ask.

"Not very. My mother was quite distressed, but John talked her down. He seemed to think the whole thing silly." Fanny chuckled.

"Silly?" Margaret couldn't believe it.

"Yes. He was more concerned that we may not be friends any longer." Fanny admitted.

"Oh." Was all Margaret could say.

Margaret could see Mr. Thornton talking to her father across the way and wondered what made Mr. Thornton smile so easily. He looked strangely different when he wasn't scowling, which he seemed to do a lot in her presence. She longed to know what made him smile, but wouldn't dare intrude on their conversation. Margaret felt her chest tighten as Mr. Thornton looked her way and his glorious smile faded. To Margaret's surprise she found that it hurt that he didn't look upon her the same as he seemed to her father.

"Here comes mother." Fanny interrupted her thoughts.

Mrs. Thornton strode over to them without any sign that something had gone amiss just the day before.

"Mrs. Thornton, please accept my apology." Margaret began but was cut short.

"Please Miss Hale, you must accept mine for behaving so brashly and unjustly to you yesterday."

Margaret froze. _Mrs. Thornton was apologizing to me?_

"Mrs. Thornton there is nothing to forgive." Margaret tried to say.

"Do you accept my apology or not Miss Hale?" Mrs. Thornton asked impatiently.

Margaret stuttered, "I do."

"Then we shall accept you for tea when you can join us, Miss Hale."

Margaret looked to Fanny for an explanation to what was happening, but Fanny just shrugged unsure herself. "Thank you, I will speak with Fanny on the invitation."

With a curt nod Mrs. Thornton left for their carriage. Before entering though Mrs. Thornton turned to her daughter, "Fanny, remember Mr. Bell visits us within the week. Plan your tea with Miss Hale accordingly."

"Yes mama." Fanny said surprised.

Margaret couldn't breathe. _Mr. Bell was going to be here within a week?_ Surly he will come to see them also. She couldn't bear it. She had to leave. The instinct to flee was urging her to move hastily.

"Fanny, I must go." Without a word Margaret left Fanny's side, dumbfounded. Mrs. Thornton looked on seemingly pleased at the state of Miss Hale.

Margaret had to find her father to leave at once. He was no longer speaking to Mr. Thornton, but to the priest. She waited as patiently as she could for him, not wanting to make a scene.

Mr. Thornton made his way to his carriage where his sister and mother were waiting. At the last minute he stopped by Margaret before he left. He could not go on and ignore her like nothing had happened and she was nothing to him, though he tried not to show it.

"Miss Hale, good morning." He said without a change of expression as he tipped his hat to her.

"Good morning Mr. Thornton." She stopped looking at her hands to see him face to face. She wasn't surprised by the sternness of his face, but wished more then ever to see that smile of his directed at her.

"I hope I do not seem to forward Miss Hale, so forgive me when I ask about your father's health." He asked genuinely concerned, looking back at the man in question. They could both see how frail and thin he was, but his spirit was ever present.

_So he did notice_. It wasn't just her imagination.

"Thank you Mr. Thornton. I do believe he is quite ill. But he denies it. I'm afraid if I call a doctor my father will send him away."Margaret knew her father would not accept help.

"Would it help Miss Hale if I brought my doctor over to Crampton?" He asked gazing at her, willing her to accept his help, if not for herself then for her father.

Margaret raised her head to look inquiringly at Mr. Thornton. She felt curiosity as to his meaning or if there was an artier motive. But there was none, the sincere look in his eyes that he wanted to help his friend tugged at her heart. She believed, for that moment, that nothing would come between them, _so long as he had the friendship of her father_, she reminded herself.

"I could say he is a friend so your father won't suspect. He could make his best judgment on your father without him even knowing he is being examined." Mr. Thornton smirked at his plan, unknowingly rewarding Margret for that briefest of expression. It wasn't a full, sincere smile but it was something.

"You would do that for me?"

"For your father, of course. He is a dear friend to me." Mr. Thornton regretted that he couldn't say what he knew to be true in his heart. _I would do anything for you_.

"Yes of course my father, I thank you Mr. Thornton most ardently." Margaret recovered her wits.

"Miss Hale, about yesterday, you need not distress yourself over what occurred. No harm was done." Mr. Thornton assured her.

"Thank you Mr. Thornton." _So_ _long as you don't hate me, I will bear it._

"When shall I call your father?"

"As soon as it is convenient for you Mr. Thornton. I would not like to prolong my father's ailing health."

"As you wish Miss Hale, I will make plans as soon as possible," He paused, "Might I expect you there as well? I mean, you will be there when I call?"

"Yes, of course. I would not like to leave my father now."

"Good day Miss Hale, I will see you soon."

Margaret was in a daze as she watched Mr. Thornton enter his carriage and drive away. All at once the thought of Mr. Bell coming, came crashing down on her once again just as her father made his way towards her.

"Father, Mr. Bell will be in town within the week." Margaret said it as a warning, but to her father's ears it sounded like good news.

"Is he? I would very much like to see him."

Margaret thought of every possible excuse for her to leave Milton while he was here. But as Edith hadn't written back, and she was sure she was not wanted at the Higgins, and going to the Thornton's would push her right into a meeting with Mr. Bell, she had nowhere to go. She knew eventually she would see him again, but now that it was so soon, she couldn't bear to wait for the inevitable moment.

* * *

As soon as Margaret and her father came home and she saw that he was comfortable and warm, she decided to write to Fred. Everything in her told her it was a risk, but in her heart she knew it to be the right thing to do. If she were in Fred's situation, and he in hers, she would want him to write. She wouldn't tell her father of her decision, knowing how greatly it would upset him and possibly make him worse.

She sat down at the kitchen table while Dixon brewed the tea for her father. As she set to writing down her letter, Dixon couldn't help but inquire, knowing all too well who and why her mistress was writing to.

"Are you sure Miss Margaret?" Dixon only asked because she thought of dear Mrs. Hale and how this would have affected her. She was only doing what she knew her former mistress would have done for her poor daughter.

"I am quite sure Dixon. It is just a precaution. A doctor will come with Mr. Thornton soon, and then we will know for sure. But for now, I will be at rest knowing Fred is aware of the situation." Margaret felt a surge of hope with the aid of Mr. Thornton, she would be forever indebted to him, and gladly so.

Margaret continued to write her letter, determined to send it off as soon as possible.

A while later, well into the night, Margaret set out to mail her letter. After dropping it into the letter box down the street, Margaret heard a shuffling of feet behind her. She turned around quickly, seeing Bessie come out of the darkness.

She was in distress and in hysterics, as she sobbed her way over to Margaret. Margaret could only look on in shock and wonder at what could possibly be the matter. After Bessie collapsed herself in Margaret's arms, she clung to her, muttering something Margaret could not understand.

"Bessie, what is the matter? What has happened?" Margaret asked frantically.

After a few more breathless sobs, Bessie went wide eyed and looked at Margaret.

"His soul! He is damned forever! Oh Margaret, help me!" Bessie cried into Margaret's bosom.

"Who? Bessie, what is this nonsense?" Margaret pleaded, starting to become frightened.

"My father! I fear for him!" She sobbed some more as Margret was more than confused at Bessie's rambling nonsense. Suddenly Bessie became frantic and tried to get away from Margaret.

"They'll find me with you! Oh no, Miss Margaret, I'm sorry!" Bessie ran from Margaret.

She was left confused as Bessie turned around and whispered in the dark, "Stay away from Mr. Thornton!" And Bessie disappeared from the street, leaving Margaret alone to wonder what had just happened.

Margaret shook as the echo of Bessie's warning danced around her, taunting her to forget her previous instincts of the Thornton's. _Was I right to assume that there is something wrong in Milton?_

Now, Margaret regretted sending the letter to Fred. _If he were to come here to Milton, will he be safe? _Margaret was sure she sent her brother off to an early grave with a letter that meant to do well. Now, she feared, she had brought more pain to what was left of her family.

A/N: Music is a huge inspiration whenever I try to do anything creative, especially when I write. I thought I'd share what drives me and inspires me to write this story. Hopefully it can get you readers in the mood too. Enjoy!

1\. Vadim Dies-Wjciech Kilar-We Own the Night

2\. Portrait of a Prince-Trevor Jones-From Hell

3\. Frysta-Olafur Arnalds-Living Room Songs

4\. Mina's Photo-Wjciech Kilar-Bram Stoker's Dracula

5\. More Dreams-Danny Elfman-Sleepy Hollow

6\. Power, Seduction, Cries-Clint Mansell-Black Swan

7\. In the Theatre-Phillip Glass-Dracula

8\. Violin Concerto-Mvt.2-Phillip Glass

9\. Nuages from "Nocturnes"-Claude Debussy-Clair de Lune

10\. End Credits-James Newton Howard-The Village

11\. Love Remembered-Wjciech Kilar-Bram Stoker's Dracula

12\. Into the Cave-Antonio Pinto-The Host

13\. First Snow-Clint Mansell-The Fountain

14\. Fantasia on a Theme-Thomas Tallis-Master and Commander

15\. Tristan und Isolde:Prelude-The City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra &amp; Richard Hein


	8. Chapter 8

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 8

There was no way they could leave. Dixon had pleaded and protested that Milton was not for them and that they should return to Helstone. Margaret had told her over and over again that the house no longer belonged to them and that Crampton is where they belonged now. Though Margaret wished that wasn't so. Ever since they arrived in Milton Margaret had contemplated leaving Milton for good and never looking back, anywhere else would have been better than this depressing town.

If funds and her father's health had been better, Margaret would have made the first move to leaving Milton. She knew a rash decision like that would surely kill her father. And she couldn't bear to lose another part of her family.

"Dixon, please. You know how ill father is. We cannot move when he is in such a precarious situation." Margaret had stopped folding the laundry to tell Dixon once and for all that the matter was final.

"I know mistress," Dixon paused to think, but of course said what was on her mind anyway, "But if we could leave now, before the master gets worse, surely all will be right."

Margaret was exasperated. How could she make the servant understand? She felt the same as the servant did, she too felt fear at living in such a place, where secrets were kept and strange people resided. Margaret did not feel at all comforted that Dixon felt as if there were eyes all around her too. Margaret didn't tell Dixon about Bessie Higgins and thought it was best not to so now, to only confirm both of their fears. Margaret thought that if someone had understood her secret plights that she would feel at ease, but it only fueled the sensation of unease within her.

"You are free to leave if you wish, Dixon. There is nothing holding you here. You know full well we cannot continue to pay your wages and I can do the housework and take care of my father myself." She hastily stuffed the laundry basket with the dirty wash that had yet to be done. She would avoid the incredulous look that she knew she would receive from Dixon for her haughtiness.

Dixon was taken aback by Miss Margaret's tone. _She almost looked like Fred with that expression on her brow_, Dixon noticed. Dixon tried to conceal the growing smirk on her face as she peered from under her cap to look at the busy girl. _No_, she realized, _Margaret is a lady and a woman now_. Dixon wondered at the woman that was before her now, where once a young girl stood. _Mrs. Hale would have been proud to see her only daughter become such a woman._

Dixon tried not to let her emotions get the best of her. She would be strong for Mrs. Hale's sake and Miss Margaret, the lady of the house. "You are right mistress," Dixon conceded, "I will help you take care of your father. I will speak no more on the subject."

Margaret looked up, surprised at the servant's response, "Thank you Dixon."

Dixon went to Margaret's side to pat her cheek lovingly. Without a second thought Margaret leaned into the touch, reminded once again of the loss of her mother.

"I will stay as long as you still need me." Dixon told her.

"I had always thought you only cared for mother, I'm sorry for doubting you Dixon." Margaret said ashamedly.

"How could that be so, when she loved you all the most?" Dixon left Margret to herself to finish the household chores.

As Margaret continued to fold the clean laundry on the kitchen table, she contemplated once again whether her letter to Fred was a mistake. She knowingly put him in danger and would never forgive herself if something were to happen to her brother. _That would surely kill father_.

And the state of Bessie in hysterics last week did nothing to dull the weariness Margaret felt in her decision to write to her brother. Margaret wished she could take it back but as that was not possible she prayed by some miracle that her letter would be lost or be sent back to her. She knew the chances of that were few and far between.

A ring at the door took her from her thoughts. Thankful for the pause in her household chores and her grim thoughts Margaret went to answer the door. A boy, no taller than her waist, handed her a letter.

"It's from the Thornton's, ma'am." The boy said quickly, ready for a hasty escape.

Margaret fished through her bag on the table to give him a coin for his services. "Thank you, young sir." She said happily. After seeing his prize he shot off with a gleeful smile.

Margaret opened the letter daintily, trying not to rip it through.

_~To Mr. Hale &amp; Miss Hale~_

_You are invited._

_The Thornton Family would like you to attend the_

_annual Christmas party at Marlborough Mills at six o'clock,_

_December fourteenth._

_Sincerely,_

_Mr. Thornton, Mrs. Thornton, and Miss Thornton._

On the bottom of the invitation, Fanny had scribbled a note for Margaret.

_Margaret,_

_Please come. I will be dreadfully bored with all of John's friends there without you for company. Please say you will._

_Yours truly,_

_Fanny_

Margaret smiled at Fanny's childish note. Fanny was the picture of beauty and propriety and picturing her bored with all her brother's business partners fawning around her made Margaret want to see her at the party herself. Margaret knew she would most likely decline the offer, since her father was feeling so unwell. She wouldn't want to drag her father out of the house to a party, even though Fanny would be most disappointed.

"Who was that Margaret?" She heard her father bellow from the top of the stairs.

"We have received an invitation to the Thornton's for a Christmas party. But I will decline if you are not feeling well papa." Margaret told her father as she climbed the stairs to him.

"Ah yes I think that would be best Margaret, I don't think I would feel up to that at all. If it was just for the company of Mr. Thornton I would cherish the meeting." Margaret smiled for his enthusiasm for his young pupil. "But, if you wish to go Margaret, you should accept."

Margaret started to protest but her father stopped her. Her gently wrapped his arm around her and put his hand up to silence what would have been her rejection of leaving him on his own.

"Now before you say another word my dear, I am quite capable of taking care of myself, Dixon will be with me, and you are young and I will not take you from your friend, Miss Thornton. I am sure she is most eager to have you." He smiled at her.

"I still would not like to leave you and I don't think I would enjoy myself with all those business men."Margaret admitted.

"All the business men? Even that of Mr. Thornton?" Mr. Hale pried into his daughters meaning.

"Well yes, I mean no, I suppose he is not as bad." Margaret found herself fumbling to defend herself. When she had said business men she honestly never meant to include Mr. Thornton. Ever since their talk at the church last Sunday, Margaret never thought of him as anything else other than a gentleman and Fanny's brother. He seemed to her the epitome of what a gentleman should be, a gentlemen that had the weight of a business man's responsibilities on his shoulders.

Her opinion of him had changed so much since they first came to Milton that she hoped that the town itself would soon be in her favor like that of Mr. Thornton's character.

"See, you will have two friends there. Please, Margaret, for me, will you go?"

"Yes of course, if you truly wish it papa."

"I do. And when you come back you can tell me all about the party."

* * *

The day had come for the party. Margaret couldn't deny that she felt anxious and excitement to be there. She had chosen one of her older dresses to wear. The dress was a white silk with delicate lace around the trims and edges. When she moved around in it, it looked as if she was floating and gliding. The white only added to her pale complexion making her look like a doll with rosy cheeks and red lips. Her dark hair was pulled high, softly on top of her head, elongating her neck from her broad shoulders. She favored its simplicity and hoped it would suit for a grand party.

Upon her arrival, Margaret was ushered into a different section of the house that she hadn't known even existed. The double doors opened in front of her revealing a grey and white room illuminated with hundreds of candles, their wax already dripping to the floors. The only color in the room was the green wreathes adorned with poinsettias. The red flower creating little bursts of color throughout the room. The room was small, but she suspected that it was due to the amount of people that were already here. Margaret wondered how many more people were expected.

Margaret looked around, not being able to recognize one face amongst her. She tried to blend with the crowd but only managed to skirt around the edges of the groups of people that had already been formed from started conversations. She wondered for a brief moment if anyone would notice if she left or not.

But before she could contemplate the idea she heard, "Miss Hale."

She turned around to find Mr. Thornton gazing at her. His usual black coat and vest were replaced with a deep blue dinner jacket and a cream vest, embroidered with tiny wild flowers in every color. They reminded Margaret of the gardens at Helstone. She could almost smell the aroma as memories flooded her mind of lazy days lying in the garden. She shook the unexpected vision from her mind as she noticed that the deep blue jacket only intensified Mr. Thornton's azure eyes. For a moment she felt naked under his scrutiny and looked away bashfully. She quickly recovered with a curtsy, "Mr. Thornton."

She looked back to him seeing his unchanged expression. His lips slightly parted and his gaze unmoving. He seemed to her at a loss for words. What Margaret couldn't see and what only Mr. Thornton could feel was his heart hammering in his chest as his blood raced through his veins. His mouth was dry as words failed him completely. All he could do was gaze upon her unashamed, he imagined more than once how she would look tonight and he could honestly admit to himself that his own image of her didn't do her justice in this moment.

Before he could quietly embarrass himself further in her presence he said obviously, "Your father is not here."

"No, I…well we thought it best that he rest at home."Margaret said after finally catching her breath.

"I'm sorry, I know I have not called on Mr. Hale with a doctor as I promised." He looked regretful at forgetting his friend and teacher. In truth, he would have come straight away to Crampton if it hadn't been for everything suddenly going wrong at the mill and their new guest in Milton.

"You are a busy man, I am sure." Margaret told him understandingly.

"It is no excuse." He said harshly, but Margaret didn't pay any notice.

"Mr. Thornton, I will not presume to know about your business but you are welcome to see my father whenever you wish."

"Just your father, Miss Hale?" He didn't know why he asked her this, what compelled him to think that she would answer him truthfully, whether he wanted to hear the answer or not.

Margaret smiled shyly at Mr. Thornton's blunt request. She didn't want to answer his inquiry as she assumed he meant it.

"Miss Hale, you look," He paused to find the right word. Beautiful, heavenly, exceptional, or even comparing her to a goddess would have sufficed, but what came out of his parched mouth was, "well."

Margaret tried to hide her laughter at his choice of words. "I promise to not take offence at your words Mr. Thornton."

He squinted at her slightly, trying to decipher her meaning when he realized she was teasing him. He smiled with her, but before he could tell her how he truly thought she looked tonight, Fanny spotted her across the room.

"Margaret!" She turned to see Fanny glide across to her. Her red gown swayed with every movement. "I'm so glad you came. Come with me I will introduce you."

Fanny linked her arm through Margaret's, which eased Margaret's nerves, but she couldn't stop from looking behind her to see Mr. Thornton already in a conversation with a man she didn't know.

Fanny took Margaret to a group of extremely well dressed people. Fanny started to make the introductions as they all peered at Margaret, scrutinizing every inch of her.

"Miss Hale, this is Sir Walter, his wife Mary, Mr. Latimer and his daughter Anne, Mr. Hamper and his wife, and Lady Cathy de Bourg.

Margaret tipped her head to all of them, "It is very nice to meet you all."

"Is this the same girl from the South?" Mr. Latimer inquired.

"Yes, her father was a parson. He now teaches. Even my brother has become one of his pupils." Fanny informed them, saving Margaret from answering.

"Why ever did Mr. Hale leave the church? What was his reasoning for uprooting his family?" Lady de Bourg asked, looking at Margaret thoughtfully.

"My father's conscience…"Margaret started, but Mr. Hamper interrupted her.

"Conscience? Whatever does a parson need with a conscience?" He asked with a snort.

"He felt he was better suited for education. After all that is where we thrive and better ourselves is with education and the will to learn and broaden our chances in the world." Margaret said proudly.

"Mr. Hale has been very successful and is bound to make scholars of us all." Fanny added, bringing laughter from the crowd.

Thankfully, dinner was announced and everyone gathered to take their assigned seats. The table, which could seat at least twenty people, was laden with a crisp white table cloth and sprigs of holly and berry were wrapped around the candelabras. The festive atmosphere made Margaret wish that her father could have seen the grand decorations. Margaret was thankful again that she hadn't been seated next to anyone she had just met.

The first course was served as idle chatter and mixed conversations blended around the table to create a comforting hum in Margaret's ears. The random clatter of utensils and clanging cups created musical interruptions, and Margaret found herself looking for Mr. Thornton. He was seated at the end of the table, directly across from his mother, which Margaret realized she hadn't greeted yet. His mother, as always, wore black.

Interrupting her quite musings, a man across from Margaret started up a conversation for all to hear, whether they wished it or not. All other topics quickly came to a close and a silence came over the room except for the unknown man's inquiry. "What do you think Thornton? Would you hire a man that another mill owner had let go?"

Margaret immediately thought of Boucher, and she suspected that Mr. Thornton must have too.

"That is your own responsibility to take on a man another didn't see fit to work in his mill. It would be on your head to take such a risk."Mr. Thornton replied, knowing where this conversation was going. _Why did work always have to be discussed at a dinner party?_

"But would you?" The man persisted.

"No, I would not. A burden once can be a burden again. I wouldn't risk it."

"You don't believe in second chances?" Now Mr. Latimer interjected in the conversation.

"Not when it's at the risk of others." Mr. Thornton sighed.

There was a hum of agreement around the table and Margaret couldn't help but agree also.

"That is the way of business, but what about in the eyes of God? If He can forgive, then shouldn't a man be forgiven by his masters?" The woman that Margaret had been introduced to, Lady de Bourg, had interjected. Clearly she was not ready to give up the subject without putting her two cents in.

"Religion, politics, and business do not mix for a reason." Mr. Latimer added from down the table.

"But shouldn't they? I don't see why they shouldn't all be the same. Without His guidance how are we to ever choose the right path? Don't you agree Margaret?" Lady de Bourg asked Margaret unexpectedly and to everyone else's surprise also.

Margaret dropped her spoon unceremoniously so it clattered with the porcelain. "I don't understand your meaning." Margaret said truthfully.

"Don't you think anyone who abandons the will and guidance of God, it not worthy of His guidance?"

Margaret shrank from the question which she knew was about her father. Across the table Mr. Thornton tensed his fist under the table at Margaret's obvious unease. If not for her own distress at this horrid woman's inquiries, Mr. Thornton would have ignored the woman's careless remarks. If Margaret had not been the one so chastised for her father's decisions, Mr. Thornton would have thought that these allegations of God and His forgiveness were about his own decisions and his life choices. But it was not and he couldn't stand to see Margaret shrink in her own shame.

"Mr. Hale, despite his choice to leave the church, is no less of a man in the eyes of God. He has shown great kindness and enthusiasm to better the lives of those around him. If I could have my way, school would be just as important and fretted upon as prayer is. Lady de Bourg, let us close this discussion." Mr. Thornton, in all his politeness, could not hide the growing anger and annoyance over the subject. And all around him decided to leave it be.

After the dinner resumed and conversations picked back up, Margaret stole a glance to Mr. Thornton to see him staring at her worriedly. To reassure him of her well being and that no harm was done, she offered a small smile and a nod of thanks. It return, he did the same.

After the dinner had satiated the guests and the table was cleared, the party patrons moved to the drawing room, where Mrs. Thornton announced that the entertainment would continue. Fanny fit her arm in the crook of Margaret's as the dining room cleared.

"Are you alright Margaret? I'm sorry about Lady de Bourg. She can be quite inquisitive when she wants to be. Though no one else cares for her useless topics of conversations." Fanny said, bringing Margret to sit with her by the frosty window sill.

"Yes, I am well Fanny. I admit she took me by surprise but it's nothing I can't handle."

"I don't doubt it. But my brother certainly came to your rescue." Fanny said with a smirk and a knowing look on her face.

"Yes, I must thank him." Margaret looked about the room to find Mr. Thornton talking to a tall, silver haired man. She didn't recognize him from dinner. The man's back was to her, but she could have sworn she knew him. _If only I could hear them_.

"I'm sorry Thornton for being late, but I couldn't resist coming at all. You mother gives the most splendid parties." The man said.

"I'm glad you could attend whatever your timing may be." Mr. Thornton told the man, but Margaret could tell that he didn't really care if the man was here at all. _Who was he?_

Mr. Thornton met her gaze, instantly softening his features. But when the mystery man turned to follow Thornton's gaze, Margaret froze in fear. Without thinking she grabbed Fanny's arm to steady herself and try to keep from shaking.

_It's him! He's here!_

Mr. Thornton instantly inched forward at seeing Margaret with her distressed expression. With a sly smile and a hand on Thornton's shoulder, Mr. Bell stopped him from going any further. As he came closer to Margaret, she could see that he hadn't changed at all since the last time she saw him when she was a child. His silver hair, and long nose framed his strong jaw line and his low brow kept his dark eyes hidden.

The instinct for Margaret to run, to flee as fast as she could, was hindered by the fear, growing rapidly as the man she had wished to never see again came closer to her. Fanny recognized her friend's distress and held tight to Margaret's hand. _How could Fanny understand?_ Margaret wondered.

As Mr. Bell stopped right in front of Margaret, she held her head hung low, unable to look up, Fanny moved from her seat as if by a silent command. Mr. Bell quickly took the empty seat next to Margaret. The window behind them started to fog as Margaret's breathing increased.

"Well, Margaret, we meet again." Mr. Bell said under his breath. Margaret still couldn't look at him, but looked to Fanny, who was now standing next to her brother as they looked on with worry.

"Come now Margaret, you remember your old godfather, don't you? Why, you must have been six the last time I saw you and your brother Fred."

At the mention of her brother, Margaret looked at Mr. Bell quickly, and then around the room to see if anyone had heard him.

"Please, Mr. Bell you know my brother's situation." Margaret couldn't help that her voice shook. In all but a moment it seemed her world was coming down around her.

"Have no fear, the Hale secret is safe with me. But, where is Richard? Did your father not come?"

"He is ill." Margaret almost whispered.

"Pity." Was all Mr. Bell would say. All the while he had a smile on his face, like he was taking pleasure in an inside joke only he knew about. It sent Margaret even deeper with her unease in his presence. _Why won't he leave me be?! Can't he see how distressed I am?_

Oh, he knew very well. And Mr. Bell was enjoying it immensely. He took pleasure in the discomfort of those around him, especially when his mere presence was the cause.

"You are looking very well Margaret. You're just as pretty as I thought you would be." Mr. Bell said, reaching for her hand. When he touched her, she looked to Mr. Thornton to save her. She pleaded with her eyes to take her away, _take this man away!_

Mr. Thornton furrowed his brow and could sense her need. But he was held back. Both he and Fanny stood, looking on at the scene before them. They could do nothing for their friend.

Seeing that he was getting nowhere with Margaret, Mr. Bell said finally, "Well, I must make my rounds my dear." He stood up and turned to lean into her ear. "I will pay you and your father a visit very soon." And with that he disappeared out of the room.

Margaret caught her breath after what seemed like an eternity. She couldn't help the one tear that fell from her closed eyes. When someone touched her on her arm she half expected it to be Fanny, but when she opened her eyes, the pained face of Mr. Thornton looked down on her. Without a word he stole her from the window to a quiet corner.

"Miss Hale, are you well?" He asked, leaving both arms about her, creating a shield around her trembling form.

After she didn't answer, he said, "I will take you home."

"No! Father, he will suspect…I don't want to worry him." Margaret said as she wiped her cheeks.

Mr. Thornton nodded in understanding. Neither of them said a word for a few minutes, but Mr. Thornton could see that Margaret was scanning the room about her, reassuring herself of something.

"Let me look after you Miss Hale." It wasn't a question, but a promise and Margaret found herself calming down with the words of her friend.

"You have been already. You have been very kind to my father and me." Margaret confessed to him.

"I wish to do more Miss Hale, be more, if you will let me." Mr. Thornton told her.

Without a chance to respond, Fanny came over to the pair. "Mother is looking for you. Go John, I will stay with her."

Fighting the urge to never let go of Miss Hale, Mr. Thornton regretfully let her go to find his mother.

"I'm being so silly. I am sorry Fanny, I didn't want to put you and your brother through such useless trouble." Margaret laughed nervously.

"You looked terrified." Fanny told her plainly, worried for her friends sudden change in character.

"It's just, I haven't seen him in a long time and the memories…" Margaret's thoughts faded away. She couldn't tell Fanny about her brother. _Could she?_

Mrs. Thornton came into the room greeting her guests, "Our friend, Mr. Bell, wishes for you all to join him in the library." The guests murmured their approval and followed suit.

"I will stay out here with you, if you do not wish to go Margaret." Fanny held Margaret's hand again.

"No, please I am quite well." Margaret tried to smile to reassure Fanny, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

The library was pitch black as Fanny and Margaret were the last to enter. In the middle of the room was a large table with a single candle placed on the center, the flickering casting dancing shadows about the room and all the eager faces. Fanny took Margaret across the room where her brother was standing.

"John, what is this?" Fanny asked her brother, who was standing rigid with his arms folded in front of him.

"Mother is indulging Mr. Bell's need for entertainment." He answered sourly.

At that moment, Margaret saw Mr. Bell enter the room, closing the door behind him, bringing more darkness to the room.

"I hope you will all forgive me, but I thought a game would suit this party."

There were exclamations and claps of approval as Mr. Bell sauntered around the room.

"What sort of game?" Anne Latimer asked who looked relieved for some excitement.

"Not a game for the faint hearted, I'm afraid." Mr. Bell told her. He stood next to the table so the light of the candle illuminated his face, the shadows and hard lines of his face making him look harsh. "A séance." He said finally.

Lady de Bourg exclaimed in mock fright, "How wicked! Well, I shall not participate."

"I will." Anne said sitting at the table. A few other gentlemen took seats around the table. Before Mr. Bell sat down, he looked to Margaret, offering his hand out to her. "Come Margaret, I know you'll enjoy this." He said with a smile.

Margaret reluctantly took his hand and sat within the circle. Before she was settled, Mr. Thornton took the seat to her left. Her heart fluttered and then plummeted when Mr. Bell sat to her right. The other guests including Mrs. Thornton and Fanny gathered around the table to watch.

"How does it work Mr. Bell?" Anne asked excitedly.

"We link hands, close our eyes, say a few gibberish words of nonsense, and let the rest just happen as it will." With a nod from all the others that were seated, Mr. Bell held his hand for Margaret to take. After she did so gingerly, Mr. Thornton offered her his hand. She noticed, when she took it he squeezed her hand to reassure her, of what she wasn't certain, but she found herself squeezing back.

All the hands were linked, and Mr. Bell said, "Eyes closed." Margaret was the last to do so. Behind her closed eyes she could still make out the faint light of the small candle and the touch of Mr. Thornton reminded her she was not alone. She squeezed tighter. And he steadied her hand.

After a pause, Mr. Bell spoke, "If there are any among us who wish to speak, do so now." It was a command to Margaret's ears and he was so confident in his words.

A few more seconds passed.

"Nothing is happening!" Anne moaned without opening her eyes.

"Patience and keep your eyes closed. " Was Mr. Bell's calm response.

Margaret too was getting impatient and was ready to free herself from the link of hands when a slight breeze tickled the curl at the nape of the neck. She gasped, hoping it was a guest behind her, getting too close.

Mr. Thornton held her hand gently while Mr. Bell held her to keep her still.

The flicker of the candle was heard and Margaret opened her eyes to see that it was fighting to keep from being blown out. Everyone still had their eyes closed, even Mr. Thornton and those who were standing. Margaret saw Mr. Bell at the corner of her eye, his own eyes also open and looking at her intently. She closed them again to keep from looking at him.

The silence was deafening, and then…

…_Margaret…_

The soft whisper of her name made her open her eyes abruptly. Everyone had heard it too as they opened their eyes to look at her.

…_Margaret…_

Came the voice again. She took her hands from the link, leaving Mr. Thornton to place his empty hand on the table, Mr. Bell, kept a firm grasp on Margaret's shaking hand.

"It's calling you, Margaret." Anne said, oblivious to how it was affecting her.

…_Margaret…Frederick…_

Margaret knew the voice well, and never expected to hear it say her name ever again. She shot up from the table, unable to bear what was happening.

"Stop it! Please stop!" Margaret tried to run from the room, but Mr. Thornton stopped her. He tried to sooth her, to calm her down, but it only added to her urge to get away. _Mother, oh mother!_

Margaret had dreamt of hearing her mother's voice one more time, but not like this.

…_Margaret…help, Fred…_

"Mr. Bell, you must stop this!" Cried Mr. Thornton. By now everyone had risen from their chairs and stood dumbstruck at the unexpected events.

Mr. Bell merely stood, looking at Margaret as if her reaction had fascinated him.

Finally, Margaret broke free from Mr. Thornton's embrace and ran from the room. She ignored the pleas of Fanny and even Mrs. Thornton to stop. Without stopping or looking back, Margaret ran to Crampton with tears blurring her vision.

Everyone had left the library, ready themselves to go home, no longer amused at the play of events.

When they were alone, Mr. Thornton looked to Mr. Bell who still looked amused. "Did you get what you were hoping for?" Mr. Thornton asked his landlord bitterly.

* * *

As soon as Margaret arrived at the door step to Crampton she collapsed in the entry way. Her crying and gasps for breath awoke both Dixon and her father from their rest in the drawing room.

Mr. Hale came down the stairs first, as frail as he was he was at his daughter side in no time. She was cold to the touch and the state of her frightened both her father and the maid.

"Margaret, what has happened?! Are you alright?" He asked as he took his own shawl and put it around her shaking shoulders.

"Oh, papa!" She cried as she wrapped herself around him, they both kneeling on the floor. "It was mama, I heard her, and she was there!"

Margaret could no longer keep it in, she had to tell someone.

"What are you going on about?" Dixon asked, scared herself.

"It was her voice papa, say you believe me!" Margaret looked to his eyes, to find him looking at her incredulously. "You don't believe me, neither of you!"

"How can I Margaret? Your mother is dead!" Mr. Hale said with tears in his eyes.

"It was her voice, she called for Fred!"

"No! I will not accept it!" Mr. Hale stood to get away from his daughter and her unbelievable tales. He walked from the two women and went to his room.

Margaret sobbed on the floor.

"Tell me Miss Margaret, what happened." Dixon was trying to be the sensible one, but couldn't stop herself from shaking.

"Mr. Bell, I saw him, he was there Dixon. Oh, if you could have seen the look on his face. He spoke of Fred and then…mother. It was her voice Dixon, I know it was! She called for me and Fred!"

"There, there miss." Dixon said as she held her mistress until she cried herself asleep on the cold, wood floor.

* * *

Margaret woke a few hours later in her bed. Dixon had helped her change and pulled the covers over her mistress's still body. Margaret knew she wouldn't get any sleep tonight, or any time soon for that matter.

She was restless as she replayed the night's events in her mind. It did nothing to quell her mind that her father or Dixon didn't believe her.

She knew in her heart, it was her mother. And she was warning her about Fred. Now Margaret understood how big of a mistake it was for her to write to Spain.

Just as Margaret started to doze again, the creak of her floorboard outside her room gave a great groan, and then another. Margaret was frightened straight through as she listened for who it could be. _Father and Dixon are asleep, so who…_

The floor creaked again as she heard faint steps growing further down the stairs away from her room.

She would never sleep soundly in Milton ever again.

A/N: Spooky enough for you?


	9. Chapter 9

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 9

It was over.

That Margaret could say that her meeting with Mr. Bell was behind her, gave her relief beyond measure. But now, there were other problems at hand.

Margaret didn't sleep a wink all through the night. The memory of her mother's voice and her warning kept her eager for the light of day. As Margaret lie awake in the darkness of her room, listening for all the creaks and groans in the old Crampton house, she thought of Mr. Bell. Their meeting had been quite strange, and that he should have such an effect on her made her thoughtful. His knowledge of Fred and his situation didn't make her feel at ease either.

Margaret almost felt ashamed at how she had reacted, but it had been such a shock. Her remembrance of last night and how she felt was all but a dream to her now. But as the light of the new day slowly crept over the horizon, Margaret decided how she would move forward. Whether the séance was a trick on Mr. Bell's part or if it were real, Margaret would heed her mother's warning.

She would, if ever in Mr. Bell's presence again, hold her head high and show him she could not easily be downcast with silly games and his musings for entertainment. And if Fred, by some miracle, ever came to Crampton, she would do everything in her power to protect and ensure his safety. She owed it her family to keep what remained of them, together.

As for the Thornton's, Margaret couldn't be sure now whether she could trust them completely. As Mr. Thornton's landlord, Mr. Bell would have control and sway over the family, but she would not let him intrude on her home. Because that is what Milton was now to she and her father, this was their home.

Margaret knew from here on out she would have to be wary of those around her. But the first step to ensuring the safety of the Hale's was to find out once and for all how much the Thornton's and Mr. Bell had a hand in the strange occurrences in Milton.

She would start with the Higgins's.

The first ray of light through Margaret's window alerted her to the time. She sprung from her bed with a renewed energy for the task at hand. She dressed and made a quick glance at her appearance. The restlessness of the night had obviously taken a toll on her features. As she crept downstairs to see if Dixon or her father were awake she saw a light from her father's study from under the door.

Margaret opened the door slowly and peeked inside. Her father sat up with a book in his hands.

"Margaret, I wondered when you would be up." He said quietly to her.

"How are you feeling papa?" She asked as she came forward to sit by him.

"I should be asking you the same thing my dear. You gave me quite a fright last night." He took her hands in his. His touch was warmer than it had been. Margaret sighed in some relief.

"I'm sorry, for last night. I am better now." Margaret kept her thoughts of the previous night to herself. Once she knew more, she could better deal with it. Right now her father's health, Fred's safety, and the Thornton's secret were her priority.

"But what happened? You were as pale as a ghost." Mr. Bell told her worriedly.

"I didn't know many of the people there, besides the Thornton's…and Mr. Bell."

"Bell, my old college fellow? I did not know he was in town." Mr. Bell said with a little more energy than usual.

"Yes, well, we played a game and I'm afraid I was the target in his schemes. I'm sure he meant no harm," Margaret assured her father, but couldn't be sure herself, "I reacted not as myself, but I am better now."

"That was very wicked of him. I cannot believe Mr. Bell would humor himself at the expense of others, especially to involve your late mother." Mr. Hale said solemnly, now thinking of Maria and Mr. Bell. "Although, now that I think about it, Mr. Bell was always one for mischief. Sometimes he would talk of the oddest things."

Margaret's interest piqued, after deciding to dig deeper into the mystery of Milton, she couldn't lose her chance to get as much information as she could. "Like what, papa?"

"Oh, just bizarre things. He is a man of business but I always thought his true passion lied in science and alchemy. I always took it as his interest in the other worldly. Superstition I call it. Life after death, immortality, power beyond the will of God, all topics that wouldn't suit you my dear." He said, patting Margaret's hand in his.

"It does seem strange, father." Maybe Margaret could invite Mr. Bell over and persuade him to speak of such things again. If she could find out more about his true thoughts, maybe she wouldn't fear him so. Or worse, she could come to fear him even more. _Ignorance is bliss_, as the saying goes, but when the ones she loved were involved, she had to know all she could.

After a silence, Margaret said, "I'm off to see Bessie Higgins, would you like me to bring you anything?"

"You're paying a visit this early?"

"I was hoping to catch her before she was off to the mills."

"What could be so important I wonder?"

"Nothing you need to worry yourself over, I promise." Margaret lied.

"I will see you later my dear."

Margaret kissed her father goodbye and headed to Pit Street.

* * *

Margaret knocked on the door once, and after a few hushed scuffles from behind the door it was opened to reveal Bessie's face.

"Miss Margaret?" Bessie asked surprised.

"May I come in Bessie?"

Without a word she let Margaret through the cold home, the fire in the hearth barely lit.

"Is Nicholas at home?"

"No, he's off at Thornton's. He leaves early in the morn." Bessie kept her head down, while looking at her feet. Margaret didn't know how to start the conversation that she knew Bessie would seem strange.

As Margaret opened her mouth to speak, Bessie began, "I know why you're here Margaret. I won't pretend to know why you would come seeking information from me."

"Bessie, what happened that night?" Margaret could still remember the frightened look on Bessie's face as she cried for her father's soul and the danger the Thornton's posed.

"Ah, that. I was bein' a little dramatic I 'spose." Bessie said with a half hearted smile.

"Dramatic? Bessie, you were in hysterics. You were frightened of something and I want to know what of." Margaret didn't want to seem demanding, but she had to know.

Bessie nodded her head and sat at the small table that tilted slightly to the side. It wobbled as Margaret balanced herself to sit on the chair next to Bessie.

"My father has worked for the Thornton's since I was little. I can't remember a time before that. But I always knew there was something about the Thornton's that just wasn't right. Father has never spoken ill of the master or in any way actually. By demand or choice he never speaks of work. Anyway, it all started when Boucher was let go for nearly destroying the mill." Margaret was relieved that at least Fanny had been truthful about this. She continued listening intently to Bessie. "Boucher was raging, mind you, he has a family to feed and all the other mills turned him away on account of what happened. He started going around, telling this and that about the master."

"What things?" Margaret pried further.

"Silly things. Oh, you would laugh at me Margaret! But I'll tell you. He said Thornton was the devil come to torment Milton and send us all to hell."

Margaret tried to hold in her gasp but it shown through her eyes as they went wide.

"Oh, Margaret don't let me be scarin' you. It's only the raging of a man turned to hunger." Bessie reached toward Margaret to steady her hand.

"Do you know anything of Mr. Bell?" Margaret asked, afraid that she would tell her something worse about her godfather.

"Only that he's the Thornton's landlord. Like I said, father doesn't talk much. I only know what I hear from others and by my own observations."

"So, when you came to Crampton that night, you were worried that your father was in danger?"

"I'm always worried for father. That night he came home in a drunken rage sayin' things about my mother and baby Mary. He scared me. And with the rumors and talks of Mr. Thornton it was just too much for me. I'm sorry Margaret. My imagination got the best of me. Truly, I am sorry."

"I'm glad you are all right." Margaret told her.

"You didn't just come to talk about that night, did you Margaret?" Bessie looked Margaret over and knew there was something else.

Margaret looked away unsure if she should tell Bessie her intuitions that would confirm Bessie's fears for her father and of the Thornton's.

"Mr. Bell is my godfather." Bessie's brow rose up in surprise. "It had been several years since I had seen him, until last night. He frightens me and I'm afraid his connection with the Thornton's would confirm your fears and mine."

Bessie rose from the chair to walk to the hearth. After a few breaths Bessie turned to Margaret.

"I know I'm not one for giving advice Miss Margaret, but I wouldn't deal with the Thornton's any more then you have to."

"That's just it Bessie, Mr. Thornton and his sister have been very kind to my father and I, it is Mr. Bell that I do not trust."

"What is it about him that has you so fearful?" Bessie came back to the table.

"I'm afraid to tell you. I haven't told anyone. I've kept it to myself since I was little. Now that I am older, I can't tell if the memory was real or just part of my childish imagination."

"Well, that sounds too good of a tale not to tell." Bessie said for encouragement, anxious herself to hear what made Margaret fear her godfather.

"I was very little, like I said. Mr. Bell came to the house often. He and my father are old friends. They were entertaining in the drawing room while I played with…" Margaret stopped, could she tell her about Fred? _No, he must be protected_. "I was playing by myself in my room, when I heard a noise from down the hall. Naturally I went to see what it was as my parents were downstairs, I though it must have been Dixon, our servant, but it wasn't."

Margaret paused as the memories came back to her, seeing them like it was yesterday. Bessie inched forward.

"Mr. Bell was in father and mother's room. His back was to me and I couldn't see what he was doing, so I went closer, which was my mistake. He heard me and turned around. What I saw nearly made me scream, but he put his finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet."

"What did you see Margaret?" Bessie nearly whispered.

"He had one of my dolls. I knew it was mine because father had given it to me, and I had misplaced it that day. But it was what he was doing with it that frightened me. He had a knife in his other hand and he cut his hand across the palm so that his blood soaked the fabric of the doll's dress. Bessie, I was so frightened, I didn't even move. When he saw that I had my eyes on his palm, he knelt next to me and told me to be silent."

"_Margaret, you know better than to intrude on someone's privacy." Mr. Bell said as he crouched down in front of Margaret._

_Margaret held still while she breathed in and out through her mouth. The smell of the blood overpowering and making her feel sick._

"_Now, what shall we do about this?" He tapped his chin in thought."If I buy you another doll, will you promise not to tell anyone?"_

_Margaret nodded slowly until Mr. Bell chuckled in delight._

"_Good girl. Now go back to your brother, and we will forget all about this."_

_Margaret ran not giving the chance to escape another thought._

"Ever since then I tried to avoid him whenever he visited. But when I couldn't avoid it, he always looked at me as if he was thinking of that night. And I've never forgotten it." Margaret finished with a shaky breath.

"Good God, Margaret." Bessie said trying to hide her horror at such a story. "Now, you really must stay away from the Thornton's and Mr. Bell. Can you not leave Milton?"

"My father is ill. I cannot risk making him worse. But I will not let any them force me out of our home. That is why I came to you Bessie. I need to know all I can about the Thornton's."

"I've told you all I know Margaret, truly." Bessie assured her.

* * *

Margaret left after Bessie told her she would be late for work. She was thoughtful all the way back to Crampton. She didn't learn very much from Bessie, but was afraid she told her too much. After all, Bessie's father worked for Mr. Thornton who works for Mr. Bell. _Could she be trusted?_ Margaret had to try. She had to keep going.

When she arrived home, she went straight to see her father. To her surprise Mr. Thornton was standing in the drawing room, seemingly expecting her presence.

"Mr. Thornton?" Margaret said surprised.

"Miss Hale, I brought the doctor for your father. He is doing his examination as we speak." He told her, as he fiddled with the rim of his hat.

"Father consented to being seen?" Margaret asked incredulously.

"He did."

Margaret felt hope and fear at the results the doctor could tell her about her father. She would know once and for all whether her father was truly ill. Though she had no doubt in her mind that he wasn't getting better.

As Margaret stood to contemplate the possible results, Mr. Thornton watched her in her unease. As her brows creased and then un-creased, he could sense the trepidation she must be feeling. He wanted to go to her, to ease her mind. But he feared that in doing so he would push her further away. After last night he knew that Margaret wasn't foolish enough to let such an event go away without question. He knew she was headstrong and willful to her best ability.

"Thank you, Mr. Thornton." She said finally.

"It is the least I can do. I should have come sooner."

They let that declaration hang in the air between them. Margaret didn't know how to feel about the man who was willing to help her father, his tutor, the same man who gave her comfort when she needed it most last night. With all that she thought she knew about Mr. Thornton, looking at him now, she wasn't sure at all. Whether he could be trusted or not would depend on what she would find out about him. And she would find out.

"Will you sit Miss Hale?" He gestured to the chair next to him.

When she settled herself, he sat next to her.

"Miss Hale, I must apologize for last night."

"As should I. My reaction and behavior was inexcusable."

"You were the target of a most cruel trick. I cannot believe you feel that you were unjustified in your behavior, whatever it may be." He said to her, confused that she would apologize. _Was her goodness never at an end?_

"I forgot how mischievous my godfather could be. I should have expected it." But she would not let it happen again. "I do not blame you or Fanny, please believe that Mr. Thornton."

"You were terrified and yet you defend him?" Mr. Thornton would never forgive Mr. Bell himself for Margaret's sake.

"I am responsible for my own actions and cannot blame someone else for their own." Margaret said formally.

_Headstrong and willful indeed_, he thought. Though he couldn't chastise her for it. It was what roused his admiration of her from the beginning. When she was fearful and weak last night, he knew the better part of Margaret was being bested. He knew sooner or later her true colors would shine through the delicate façade once again. He was pleased to see it now. Any other woman would have taken to bed and cried and sulked. But not Margaret, Mr. Thornton tried to hide his smirk, but Margaret saw it.

"What is it?" She asked genuinely. Relieved to see that smile again, he was making it extremely difficult for her to ever doubt him.

"I'm not sure Mr. Bell would be pleased to hear he didn't frighten you silly." Mr. Thornton said as a joke, but knew his landlord's intentions were anything but a joke. He was glad Margaret would be one to show Mr. Bell that not all could be so easily swayed under him. The thought turned him solemn.

"I am determined." She told him.

He nodded his head like he knew this about her already.

"Tell Fanny, that no harm was done, if you would." Margaret asked him, knowing she would be worried about Fanny if she had seen her in such a state.

"She knows, Miss Hale. She was the one that said you would be alright. But now that I see for myself, I'm sorry I doubted her." Mr. Thornton loved his sister, but sometimes forgot she was a woman of her own now, not to be doubted or indulged.

"She is very intuitive. I have not known her long, but I cherish her friendship very much." Margaret said.

"I am glad to hear it. Are there no others you can call friend?"

"I have been with Bessie Higgins, she is a dear girl." Margaret tried not to think of their previous conversation, as the man in question was sitting right next to her.

"Am I not a friend, Miss Hale?" Margaret could see the doubt behind his eyes and found that even though she knew so little about him and didn't know whether she could put her trust in him, he had done so much for her father and herself. She found, she wanted to trust him.

"You are a good friend to my father, so I suppose we are."

"You suppose? Miss Hale do you doubt me?" He asked with a hard edge, which he never intended.

She was silent as she thought what to say. He was so forward with his question. Could she not be just as forward? She had decided for herself to do everything in her power to understand him better. Wasn't now her chance?

"I do not know you well Mr. Thornton. I'm not sure whether to trust you or not." She said honestly, hoping he wouldn't find offence.

But he would. Against his best judgment and character, he would take offence at such a proclamation. Had he not done enough to make her feel safe?

"What good is trust when the promise of friendship has been declared? Have I not helped your father and you in Milton?" Mr. Thornton asked with a raised voice that Margaret found must be how he spoke to his hands in the mill.

"Yes, and I am grateful. But would you not like a friend you can trust?"

He admitted to himself that he would wish that. And at the same time he realized he couldn't blame her for not trusting him. For everything that he had hid and is still hiding, she would be right to not trust him. Without knowing what prompted him to do so, he said, "I suppose Fanny has told you of our father."

"She has." Margaret was afraid that she was betraying her friends trust but couldn't understand why Mr. Thornton would ask her about this right now. Weren't they talking of friendship and trust just a moment ago?

"My father killed himself, Miss Hale. He was a gambler and couldn't handle the shame of letting his family come to poverty after his loss of fortune. No friend of his came to our aid, even before his death. So, yes Miss Hale, I would wish to have friends I could trust. In the end, it is all we have. Family and trust."

"Mr. Thornton, I'm sorry."

"I do not want your pity Miss Hale. I couldn't bear it in your eyes." He said as he stood from the chair and walked to the door as if to leave.

How could Margaret tell him that she was sorry that she could not trust him, not yet? How could she tell him her fears and intuitions of her godfather, his landlord? She couldn't.

He turned around to look at her seeing what he never wished to see. She was uncertain of him. In that moment, he wished he had never met Mr. Bell, if it meant she could look at him with admiration instead of uncertainty..

"The doctor will be down." He said, opening the door. She didn't hear a sound until a few moments later the doctor came down with his bag.

"Miss Hale?" She nodded, standing to greet him. "I am doctor Donaldson."

Margaret saw Mr. Thornton over the doctor's shoulder as he made his retreat down the stairs, she wanted to stop him, tell him to wait. But there was an obstacle between them. She wouldn't realize how big that obstacle would be until she found out the real Mr. Thornton.

"I have examined your father, and there seems to be nothing seriously wrong with him. The Milton air has been known to dim the spirit and he is very tired. With much sleep and rest he should be his old self again." The doctor told her. Margaret couldn't help but feel trepidation that the doctor was holding something from her, but she smiled and let a little bit of hope overtake her for the moment.

She saw the doctor out and saw no sign of Mr. Thornton.

A/N: First off let me just say how much your reviews are helping me through this story. I really appreciate your feedback and theories as to what is going on. I wish I could confirm or deny some of them, because they are all brilliant, but what would be the fun in that? (: Anyways, this chapter took an unexpected turn from what I had originally intended, but I wanted to stress how Margaret was feeling through all this, especially in regards to Mr. Thornton. It's really hard for me because I just want them to fall in love and live happily ever after, but I have so much more to write and I hope you guys will enjoy the ride with me. Thank you again for reading and reviewing!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: A thousand apologies for not updating in awhile, but personal family stuff has kept the desire to write away from me. I woke up this morning to clouds and rain and it felt great! It sounds weird but we NEVER get rain, so it gave me the perfect setting and mood to write again, and it feels amazing. I'm excited for this one because it reveals a whole lot more without giving away too much. There is so much more to reveal in the next chapters and I hope I can keep up with the updates. There will definitely be more Margaret and Thornton to come! Thanks for sticking around, read and review if you'd like. (:**

I dare Not Hope: Chapter 10

Margaret knew the doctor had not been honest with her. Her father's health had declined in these past two weeks and Margaret saw the inevitable end. As Christmas was only a few days away, Margaret hoped he would at least make it to the New Year. But her hopes were dwindling.

Since Mr. Thornton had brought the doctor, she hadn't seen him at all. Not in the streets, when she met with Fanny, or when she took her walks, which she was still determined to do, even amongst all the hectic chaos that seemed to torment her life.

She was grateful though, that she hadn't seen Mr. Bell either. She had prepared herself for their next meeting and vowed not let her fear show. She was a grown woman now, and not a child, she would face him like any other man. Who was he to make her feel inferior and in want of retreat of her home when he was near? No, Margaret had steadfastly promised herself and for her father's sake that she would be a strong force against the likes of Mr. Bell.

Margaret felt gratitude to the town of Milton for making her realize her own strength and courage. Here, she could stand her own and make her own decisions. In Helstone, she relied on her parents, she realized now, and always stood aside to let others decide her fate. She felt renewed and full of life in Milton. It was credit to her new friends here too that made her feel so valiant. Fanny, Bessie, a few of the workers, she supposed she could count Mr. Higgins, although they barely spoke more than two words at a time, and she had to admit even Mrs. Thornton. As proud and stubborn as she may be, Margaret admired her will to do what was right for the sake of the Mill and her family.

And Mr. Thornton, she could never forget the kindness he has shown to her own dear father. And despite their last meeting, she hoped they would still be amiable friends. At the thought, Margret's heart lurched in wanting. As of late she had recognized these odd feelings within her and couldn't understand why they were so congruent with thoughts of Mr. Thornton. Did she miss his company? For her father or herself she didn't know. But he was a busy man, she told herself time and time again, and hoped their paths would cross again soon.

It seemed strange to Margaret as she realized, that since her encounter with Mr. Bell and that awful trick at the party, that things seemed quite normal in Milton. When she walked the streets she no longer had the odd sensation that someone was watching her. Even the sun had shown itself a few times bringing some much needed warmth to the people in the dreary season. But, as seasons go, there had been heavy snowfall, just in time for Christmas.

As Margaret walked home from the market, the crunch of snow beneath her boots echoed in the empty streets of Milton. Hands were still at work, anxious to get home, for Christmas Eve was tomorrow. And so was Margaret. She was anxious to get home to her father, who was in capable hands with Dixon around. She was quite proud to have Dixon as her companion in all this. Margaret thought she could do it on her own but relished the extra company and help.

Walking through the door that was decorated with holly, Margaret sighed in her return.

"Dixon, I am back." She stated as she undressed from her coat and hat, brushing off snowflakes from her shoulders. "They didn't have very much left but I got enough until after Christmas."

Dixon came out of the kitchen, hearing her Mistress. "This will do just fine Miss Margaret. I'll get to it straight away. It won't be like it was in Helstone."

It was true, since their reduced circumstances and little to no income, they could not afford for the feast and festivities that they would have usually enjoyed for Christmas. But Margaret was grateful for what they had, and her father still lived, that was enough for her.

"You're right Dixon, but it will be no less joyous don't you think?" Margaret smiled warmly.

"Yes, Mistress." Dixon agreed. 'Go on to your father, he been asking for you."

Margaret needed no more persuading, she quickly retreated to his study. Mr. Hale had requested he be moved from his bedroom to his study because it was closer to where he could move about freely and to his books. Margaret thought it wonderful that he should still be eager to sit amongst the people and things he loved, so she readily agreed.

Knocking twice upon the door, she entered his study. She slowly peeked around the door to find her father reading in front of a roaring fire. This was the only room they would light a grand fire, for reasons her father didn't need to be made aware of, but Margaret suspected he knew anyways.

The heavy rise and fall of her father's chest made Margaret's heart swell at the wonderful sight of life. She would always remember from her early years, a book fit snuggly in her father's hands, as he would often read aloud to her and Fred. She came to give up such pleasures as she got older and wished now that he would read to her again.

"How are you father?" She asked in a whisper as she came to sit on the stool in front of her father.

"I am quite well today. The snow makes everything extra peaceful. I feel full of life with the sight of the pure white layer over Milton. It's like a new beginning." He smiled looking at Margaret's flushed face. "Though I see you have been out in the cold and would wish to be warm." He pulled her up to move her closer to the fire. She obliged him but made sure not to block the heat from getting to him.

"It is beautiful." Margaret told him. "There is not a soul out. I suspect they are all anxious for the next few days off from the mills."

"I suppose we can count on Thornton not coming for a visit for the next few days." Margaret could see her father's unhappiness at not seeing his favorite pupil and friend for quite some time.

"He is very busy father. Especially with Christmas just around the corner, I suspect he has had more preparation and work to deal with."

"Of course, I have just longed for his company." Mr. Hale admitted.

_Me too_, Margaret thought.

After a few hours of spending time in front of the fire, Margaret could see her father become tired, his eyes drooping and his head occasional fighting to stay up.

"You rest, father. I will go see if Dixon needs help." Margaret sat up to kiss her father's brow, and before he could voice a response, he nodded off. After making sure his blanket was secure around his shoulders Margaret left the room quietly, closing the door behind her.

As she made it to the last step of the stairs there was a knock on the door.

"I will get it, Dixon." Margaret walked to the door, wondering who would be calling unexpectedly. For a moment her heart began to beat wildly at the thought that Mr. Thornton would finally be visiting. She reached for the door knob hastily and swung it open in eagerness. What she saw before her was nothing she was prepared for.

"Edith!" Margaret's eyes went wide and her mouth was open in a surprised "O" at the sight of her fair cousin.

"Oh, Margaret!" Edith rushed forward to embrace her as their arms clapped around each other, neither believing that they were finally together again.

After a moment they both detached themselves from each other to look at one another. Margaret realized Aunt Shaw was looking at them fondly, remembering the loss of her own dear sister, noting that Margaret was a spitting image of her in those young days. Margaret saw the carriage that brought them and…and Henry.

Margaret's stomach became knotted at the sight of her former betrothed. She realized then that she didn't love him anymore like she thought she might have. Instead, her thoughts quickly went to that of Mr. Thornton, his half smile looking down at her as his blue eyes pierced her very soul.

Margaret quickly shook her head of those awkward thoughts. Edith looked to her knowingly, thinking it must be Henry that brought on such a reaction from her otherwise stoic cousin.

"What are you doing here Edith?" Margaret asked in pure astonishment.

"Well, that is quite the welcome from you Margaret!" Aunt Shaw teased her.

"Oh my dear Margaret, I have missed you so. And I was just telling Mama how I longed to see you and she suggested we spend Christmas with you and your father. Please say you do not think it wicked of me to show up unannounced?" Margaret saw the flash of worry in her cousin's eye and wanted to quickly snuff away the image.

"Of course not! I am very happy you are both here. I have missed you too." Margaret said hugging her cousin again.

"And we brought Henry along as a chaperone." Edith said sweetly.

"I could not let you ladies go alone." Henry said from the carriage as he grabbed the cases from the boot. "Besides, you are half of my family now."

Giving all Margaret's attention to her cousin and the suddenly solemn look on her pale face, she inquired, "Edith, how have you been? I'm sorry I was not with you." Margaret regretted that she couldn't be with her cousin with the death of her fiancé and the death of Henry's brother, but her own mother's untimely death had coincided.

"It has been hard Margaret. But let us enjoy our time now. I will fill you in on the specifics later. Come, we are freezing!" Edith said as Margaret moved to let her and Aunt Shaw through the door.

"Of course. Please come in." Margaret said joyfully.

Margaret waited with baited breath for Henry to walk up the stone steps towards her. He gazed at her noting how different she appeared, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was about Margaret that seemed indifferent to his presence.

"Hello, Margaret." He said, expecting a reaction of pain or of grief, anything at all.

"Hello, Henry." Margaret said plainly, like she was greeting an old forgotten acquaintance. She was relieved that there were no thoughts of him and their past together. She looked upon him like they were never promised to one another. And she noted, happily, while trying not to laugh, that Mr. Thornton was much taller than him, and far more handsome.

Henry walked passed her, with a look of utter confusion on his face.

* * *

Mr. Hale's spirits lifted even more with their new arrivals. Christmas Eve was made a joyous occasion with the happy company in Crampton. Margaret could scarcely believe that Edith was here. After all those weeks of unanswered letters, she regretfully admitted that she had forgotten all about her. With the events in Milton, the Thornton's and her father's health, Margaret wondered how she ever got through all of that without her cousins guidance and reassurance.

"You do seem quite different Margaret." Edith told her as she sat next to her. Everyone, including Dixon fit snuggly in the cramp sitting room, but the warmth and laughter filled it to bursting. Margaret could say she was quite happy right now. "Not in a bad way, but you almost seem more like yourself then you have ever been."

"It has been hard, Edith. And I do feel we have been through so much, but we are happy here in Milton." Margaret found that this statement was the truth. She wasn't saying it to appease her cousin's worries, if there were any, but she truly meant what she said.

"I am glad Margaret, we have all missed you." Edith said glancing at Henry.

"Yes Edith, I am sure Henry missed the fortune he could have had. Not like there was much to begin with." Margaret said sarcastically.

"Oh Margaret you are wicked!" Edith said with a laugh. "But I know what you mean. He was quite heartbroken I think. Yes he must have been. I think with your absence the death of his brother was a lot harder to bear."

"How have you been Edith?" Margaret wanted no more talk of Henry, but was eager to know how her cousin was fairing.

"I just miss him so much, Margaret. I feel we didn't get the chance to love each other like we should have. Our time was cut so short. I feel I would do anything for a few more moments with him." Edith said with glinting tears in her eyes.

"I am sorry I wasn't there, Edith."Margaret said shamefully.

"You were with your own dear mother Margaret and then her loss came as quite a blow to all of us. I do not regret it." Edith reassured her.

Margaret grabbed her cousin's hand to hold it close. After a few quite moments, Edith broke the silence between them.

"Why did you never write to me Margaret? I must have written you a hundred times." Edith said frustratingly, remembering all those months bearing un-replied letters.

"You wrote me? I must have sent off just as many letters. You didn't receive a single one of them?" Margaret asked in confusion.

"Of course not! I would have replied without haste and in eagerness." Edith told her.

"How can that be Edith? If both of us sent letters and neither received a single one of them?" Margaret's confusion and worry showed in her brow as she concentrated on a fray in the worn rug.

"Oh never mind. We are here now, that is all the matters." Margaret was grateful for the interruption in her thoughts. Edith was always one to find the good in a situation. "So, tell me about Milton."

After recalling all there was to know about Milton to Edith and telling her of her new friends and her new life, Margaret made sure to keep out all the strange occurrences and her troubles with Mr. Bell out of the conversation.

"So, this Mr. Thornton, is he spoken for?" Edith asked slyly.

"Edith!" Margaret gasped.

"What? You seem very enamored of him."

"He is a good friend and a very respectable gentleman." Margaret tried to reassure her cousin that there were no other feelings or thoughts for the mill owner, but like always, Edith could read her cousin like an open book.

She gave Margaret a knowing smile and in return Margaret gave a nervous laugh.

"What of Mr. Thornton, Margaret?" Mr. Hale asked from across the room.

"I was just telling Edith about the mill and the Thornton's, father." Margaret replied.

"A fine man he is and such a good friend." Mr. Hale added with a smile.

"Mr. Thornton? Is Mr. Bell not his landlord?" Henry asked Margaret.

"He is." Margaret said without putting too much effort in the conversation of Mr. Bell. _What did Henry know of Mr. Bell?_

"A proud and disagreeable man, I have heard." Henry said of Mr. Thornton, ignoring the praise the mill owner was just given.

"No, you are wrong, He has been a great friend to us and has helped us when we needed it the most." Margaret said steadfastly. Henry seemed to understand Margaret's double meaning: Mr. Thornton had been there when _he_ was not. Henry shrank from the conversation, getting a feeling of where he stood with Margaret Hale.

As chatter picked up among the group, Edith turned to Margaret, "Well, now I really must meet this Mr. Thornton."

* * *

Christmas had come and gone, the festivities fully enjoyed by the Hales and their guests. Aunt Shaw had commissioned Henry to walk her to the post office and to perform a few errands while they were out. Mr. Hale was asleep in his study and Dixon was busy with the washing, leaving Margaret and Edith to their own devices.

Still undressed in their night clothes the two cousins laid about in Margaret's room talking of old times and new ones, mostly happy memories.

"Margaret it is so cold in this house! How can you stand it?" Edith shivered as she brought her shawl closer about her.

Margaret laughed, "I am afraid I am used to it."

"I'm sure you are warmed at night by thoughts of your mill owner." Edith teased.

"Edith, he is not mine and I do no such thing!" Margaret laughed into her shawl harder now, making Edith double over with the blush on her cousin's face.

"You cannot fool anyone, Margaret with that blush on your cheek. Poor Henry will be so disappointed."

"What do you mean, Edith?" Margaret asked as she stopped her laughing, the smile faded from her face.

"He only just about begged to come along with us. I'm sure he wanted to win you back." Edith said seriously.

"You know that is not possible now." Margaret reassured her.

"That's what I told him. But he assured me that he knew you better. I thought the trip would convince him to see for himself. I'm sure he sees the truth of your indifference now."

"But why would he want me back? Why now?" Margaret wondered.

"Maybe he really did love you, Margaret. Maybe he panicked when he found out you would have no fortune."

"Yes, what a gallant thing to do to the one you love." Margaret said sternly.

"Margaret, you were not too hurt by it?"Edith asked as she came closer to Margaret.

"I think I was at first. But I thought I loved him so. Not like…"

"Not like whom?" Edith asked, knowing full well who was on Margaret's mind.

"No one." Margaret fidgeted in her seat, feeling that Edith knew her thoughts.

A knock on the door interrupted them as Dixon came through, a worried look on her face.

"What is it Dixon?" Margaret asked.

"Mr. Bell is here to see your father. He asked to see you afterwards." Dixon told her.

"He is here now, with father?" Margaret wondered why he didn't wish to see her together with her father. _Why did he want to see her alone?_

"Yes mistress. I told him you would wait for him in the sitting room." Dixon looked sorry that she had said so without seeking her mistress's approval.

"It's alright Dixon, I will be down shortly."

As Dixon left Margaret began to dress.

"Margaret, are you alright?" Edith asked with concern.

"I am well, Edith." She told her cousin with a smile which Margaret knew she would never believe.

"Margaret what is it?" Edith came to stand next to Margaret, making her look into her eyes. "I know when something is troubling you."

"I do not care for Mr. Bell. His company is not something I wish to keep. But he is still my father's oldest friend. I will see what he wants." Margaret told her.

"Then I shall go down with you." Edith told her as she started to get dressed herself.

"No, Edith it is alright. You do not have to on my account."

"You will not sway me otherwise, Margaret. You know how hard it is to change my mind once it is made up." Edith flashed her devilish grin.

"I know all too well, Edith."

* * *

Both girls finished dressing and Edith gave Margaret a squeeze as she took her hand as they waited for Mr. Bell.

It was only a few moments later when there was a knock on the door. Margaret looked to Edith for some kind of support and guidance, Edith nodded her head, telling Margaret it would be alright. Margaret nodded too, stealing herself for courage. She could do it.

"Come in." Margaret said to the door, she was proud that her voice did not waiver.

Mr. Bell came in the room, all smiles, and obviously let his eyes roam over Margaret's form. He seemed pleased until he saw Edith.

"Ah, I see we are not alone." Mr. Bell said slightly surprised. She already had the upper hand, _clever girl._

"This is my cousin, Edith Shaw. She is visiting us for the holidays." Margaret told Mr. Bell.

Mr. Bell was surprised to say the least.

"All the way from London?" He asked Edith. But Margaret had a feeling he already knew this.

Edith seemed more taken back by Mr. Bell's knowing observation. She could already tell why Margaret didn't care for this man. His eyes seemed to take in all of you, even your secrets.

"Yes. I came with my mother and Henry Lennox." Edith told him, wondering if she should have given him that much information, or if he already knew that.

"Ah, how is Henry?" Mr. Bell said, seeing the worried glance the two girls shared between each other.

"You know Henry?" Margaret asked.

"A little. We meet from time to time." Mr. Bell told his god daughter. "I had hoped to see you privately, Margaret but as I see you already have a guest I will not keep you."

He came closer to take his hand in his, "I am sorry about Richard, he does not look well at all." He tightened his grasp on her. "I would like to see you again, very soon, when we can have some privacy."

Margaret pushed down the bile that she was sure would come out any second if he touched her any more, but told him, "That would be very difficult. Edith will be here for quite some time and I will have to keep by my father's side." Margaret removed her hand from his, feeling the warmth return to her hand from his icy touch.

"Of course. It won't be long now." He gave her a smile letting her know she had won this time. "I look forward t our next meeting, Margaret."

He turned to leave but turned once more and said to Margaret and Edith, "Enjoy your time, ladies." And he was gone.

Margaret was furious, _what an odious man! _

"I see what you mean now, Margaret. I would not like to be in the same room as that man ever again!" Edith said sitting down.

"I'm sorry if he distressed you." She said coming to be next to her cousin.

"It is you I worry for Margaret. Whatever could he have wanted to speak to you about?"

"I have no idea." Margaret wondered the same thing. Whatever it was it couldn't be good. Margaret wished now, more than ever, that she could see Mr. Thornton. He seemed to understand her reasons for her dislike of Mr. Bell even though he had no reason to. Did he know what kind of man his landlord was? _He must know_, Margret thought. Otherwise, why did she feel a connection to him and that somehow her fate with her god father depended on Mr. Thornton? Why was his absence making Margaret long for him even more?

* * *

Mr. Thornton would have enjoyed Christmas if it wasn't for the constant worry for the mill and its workers. Lately, his hands had seemed aloof and secretive, not like the usual hard working lot that they were. Every time he walked the floor he received the same skeptical glances from the workers, like they knew something about him. Were Boucher's words spreading through the minds of his loyal workers, making them doubt him? He knew firing Boucher would cause him more trouble than he did before.

Thornton wasn't naïve to what Boucher was saying about him and his family. And he was sure that his ideas would fall on deaf ears, but now with the questioning looks in the workers eyes he couldn't be so sure anymore. Was it no longer possible to keep his secret safe? Or would they unmask him for what he truly was?

His only concern now was that because of the speculation on his character the mill took a toll on productivity. And he would not stand for that, not with what his family had been through to get to where they were now. He knew a visit from Mr. Bell would arrive soon, to check up on him as he usually did when things started to go badly

Mr. Thornton wished for nothing more than to take back what he had done all those years if it would spare him this constant worry of whether he would be found out not or whether Miss Hale would find out. What would she think? But then he thought if he hadn't made that life altering decision, he would have never met her.

_Margaret_, the one whom he would wish to tell all his secrets to, to make her understand why he was the way he was. And why he was determined to protect her from the evils of the world. He had kept his distance from her, thinking it the right thing to do. He would watch her from afar.

But the pain at not seeing her face or hearing her voice had damaged his reasoning for keeping her at arm's length. Why couldn't he be near to her while still trying to protect her? _Because,_ he told himself time after time, _you are a danger to her_. The thought alone was enough to torment him and punish him for everything that he had done in the past that was wrong. He would bear the punishment for her.

As he walked the floors, growing used to the uncertain glanced from his mill owners. He was lifted from his thoughts when Higgins came to him.

"Mr. Bell is here to see you, Master." Higgins said out of breath.

Mr. Thornton sighed with annoyance. He thought he would rather have received the scolding from his landlord sooner rather than later, but now that the moment was here, he wanted to put it off until the matter was resolved and Mr. Thornton could get a handle on his mill again.

"I will be up straight away. Look after the floors until I get back." Mr. Thornton walked past him.

"Aye. I will Master."

Mr. Thornton found Mr. Bell sitting leisurely in his office.

"Mr. Bell, I was not expecting you." Mr. Thornton told him trying to keep it civil.

"Weren't you, Thornton? You knew I would come." Mr. Bell said.

"Yes, things have gotten a little out of hand. But it's nothing I can't handle." He told his landlord as he sat across from him.

"Are you sure? Word around town is that you are not a man to be trusted."

"A worker I let go some months ago is spreading rumor, nothing more."Mr. Thornton regretted letting Boucher get away and letting him run havoc in his name.

"What about Margaret?"Mr. Bell asked him. Without looking at the man, Mr. Bell could feel the tension rise.

Mr. Thornton thought his heart must have stopped. The urge to protect her, to run to her was making him shake in anticipation.

"What about her?" He tried to keep his voice neutral, but it came out harsh in an almost feverish snarl.

"I think she suspects. Which is not surprising, she was always a smart girl."

Mr. Thornton said nothing. He knew Margaret was too inquisitive for her own good. He hoped she realized what danger she could be in if she delved too far in matters.

"She is good friends with a lot of the workers, including Bessie Higgins and she has come to care for the Boucher family. These tales, or rumors as you call them, will reach her if they haven't already. I would hate to see her getting any ideas."

Mr. Thornton swallowed hard as the words tried to free themselves from his mouth, "What would you have me do?"

"Take care of it, like you've promised."

"Take care of it? What would you have me do with Margaret? I cannot…"

"No, no, leave Margret to me. Take care of Boucher and anyone else you feel would be a threat."

"Don't you think she will suspect when all her friends star to disappear? Like you said, she is a smart girl."

'I'll leave that up to you."

As Mr. Bell got up to leave, Mr. Thornton couldn't help the fear that rose in him. "What will you do with Margaret?"

"Don't worry Thornton, she is in good hands." He turned and opened the door to leave but turned once more, "Her cousin and aunt are with her now and a Mr. Henry Lennox."

Mr. Thornton's blood ran cold. He remembered that name, but from where? And who was he to Margaret?

"Oh and Richard Hale is not doing so well, I fear he will not last much longer. Take care of Milton, Thornton." Mr. Bell said as a warning as he took his leave.

Mr. Thornton's thoughts were fighting for dominance in his head. How could he do this quietly? What was he prepared to do to keep Margaret safe? The thought of Mr. Bell tending to Margaret was enough for him to want to tell him to forget his oath to him all those years ago. _Mr. Bell be damned! _He could do as he wished to him as long as he left Margaret alone. But he wouldn't, he would never let her be and it was up to Mr. Thornton to make sure she was safe. If only he could tell her! But would she readily believe him like she would her friends that were also causing these rumors?

_Poor Margaret!_ He thought sadly as he couldn't be by her side as her father lay dying. At least she had family with her, and Henry Lennox, whoever he was. Mr. Thornton would find out if Mr. Lennox's intentions toward Margaret were brought in friendship or if this was another part of Mr. Bell's plan.


	11. Chapter 11

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 11

The joy of having her dear cousin, Edith by her side, could not keep away the misfortunes that Margaret was facing in Milton. For awhile it seemed that all was well in the industrial town.

Edith had been with the Hales well past the New Year. Henry Lennox had accompanied her Aunt Shaw back to London, and Margaret hoped it was the last she would see of Henry for some time.

Mr. Hale had not gotten better, nor had he taken a turn for the worst. He seemed, to Margaret to be at a standstill, never wavering in either direction. And Mr. Bell had only sent a few cards here and there to inquire after his old school mate's health. Never once was Margaret mentioned in any of the letters. She couldn't decipher whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. But she was thankful, none the less, that he hadn't come in person inquiring after Mr. Hale.

Margaret had shown Edith around Milton, introducing her to Bessie and even Fanny Thornton. The meeting had brought on thoughts of her friend's brother and his absence. Fanny had given excuses in his name, saying that the mill had taken most of his time these days, and that she hardly saw him. Margaret hoped that there wasn't anything too terrible going on with the mill. She knew the Thornton's past dalliance with poverty and how much Mr. Thornton strived to better his family's situation. But Fanny assured her that nothing at all was amiss, just normal back up of production from the holidays.

Margaret felt unsettled, even with the company of her cousin and the seemingly calm atmosphere of the town.

"Margaret, what is it? You've hardly said a word this morning." Edith asked her cousin, gazing at her as she watched her stare off at nothing.

"I suppose I am just tired." Margaret replied.

"I know that look. Something is troubling you. Is it Fred?" Edith asked in a whisper.

Since Edith's stay indefinitely, Margaret had told her all about her letter to her brother and the fear that it would send him home and ultimately to his death.

"I feel I have done wrong in sending that letter, Edith. If anything should happen to him on my account, I would never forgive myself." Margaret said solemnly.

"It has been well over two months since you have sent it. Maybe it got lost or maybe he received it and has decided not to come." Edith offered.

Margaret laughed, "My brother is just as headstrong as I am. If he received the letter, he would have wasted no time in coming back."

"Well, if he does I'm sure he will be careful. Try not to worry yourself over it." Edith leant her hand for Margaret to take it.

Margaret nodded.

"Is there something else Margaret?" When Edith didn't elaborate, Margaret looked to her searching for her meaning. "I mean, is there someone else on your mind?"

"Yes." Margaret had to think, what was really bothering her? "And no. I'm not sure what to think at the moment. I feel unsettled, like something is going to happen, but I can't think what it might be."

Edith only nodded, unsure of what Margaret was trying to say.

"Ever since you came to Milton, things have seemed…stagnant. It's like something is waiting to happen, for the right moment."

"What do you mean Margaret? What "something"?"

"I do not know." Margaret laughed again. "To tell you the truth, I think I'm starting to feel normal again and it is strange to me." Edith laughed with her, worried for her cousin's thoughts. She knew Margaret didn't worry over just anything and she had to admit to herself that Milton had a strange aura about it. She kept it to herself, feeling it would be rude to say anything that might be offensive to the Hales.

"You lived in Helstone for so long. I wonder it would take you quite awhile to get used to a town such as Milton." Edith offered.

"Yes, I'm sure that is it." Margaret smiled, not yet ready to tell her cousin about all the strange occurrences that have happened. She already knew about Mr. Bell, she figured that was enough for now. But Margaret hadn't dared speak of the Thornton's too intimately with her cousin, afraid to reveal too much. She saw in Fanny's eyes when she had introduced the two that she was trying to decipher what Margaret had told her cousin of her brother and mother. Margaret wished to ease her thoughts, to tell her that she would never break her confidence in her. But the meeting was short and Margaret hoped to see Fanny soon, and perhaps even her brother.

Dixon came through the sitting room to bring the ladies' tea. As she set the tray down Margaret could see the worried crease in the servant's forehead.

"What is it Dixon? Is it father?" Margaret hastily stood from her seat with worry.

"No, no Miss he is asleep." Margaret calmed from her sudden outburst and sat down again. "It's about the Boucher's. You know that family that lives next to the Higgins'?"

Margaret nodded, "What about them?"

"They've disappeared." Dixon breathed out.

"Disappeared? How is that possible?" Margaret asked.

"Neighbors have said they were gone in the night. The house was left suddenly, but nothing was taken."

"Might they just have left for another town? Maybe John Boucher found employment elsewhere and they had no time to linger." Margaret hoped that was the case. Otherwise, what could have happened to them? _All those children_.

Margaret's mind instantly pondered over what Bessie had told her that Boucher was saying about the Thornton's, particularly Mr. Thornton. _Surely, this had nothing to do with him_. She hoped, God she hoped he had nothing to do with this.

"There must be some explanation." Edith intervened.

Dixon looked skeptical and was about to say that she didn't think it likely that the whole family could just disappear in one night, when Margaret halted her. "Thank you, Dixon that will be all."

Dixon nodded and left.

"Margaret what is it?" Edith asked sternly. "You have not been honest with me."

"I know." Margaret said under her breath, but looked her cousin in the eyes with such fierceness, Edith thought her cousin much changed by whatever it was that she was not telling her. "Would you believe me Edith, if I asked you to trust me when I say that it is nothing I can't handle."

Edith looked her cousin over and saw the fear behind Margaret's eyes but knew that with her character, Margaret could take on storms if she put her mind to it. Despite being a woman of a higher class, Margaret had always stood out as an equal to that of a man. Edith envied her for it, but admired her even more. She just hoped that Margaret wasn't underestimating whatever was happening.

"I trust you Margaret."

"Thank you, Edith." Margaret's mind was still racing with what had happened to the Boucher's. "I think I will make a call on Bessie Higgins, if you don't mind." Margaret got up to grab her coat but Edith stood too.

"By yourself?"

"Yes, I cannot ask you to go with me. I will be back shortly."

"Margaret, I promised not to ask questions but I refuse to be left behind. I will go with you."

Margaret saw it as a useless quarrel to try and make Edith stay behind. "Very well, Edith."

* * *

Upon entering the Higgins' home, Margaret could sense Bessie's unease. She was holding her shawl to her tightly and walking back and forth across the floor. "Margaret, I thought you might come."

"Bessie, do you know what happened?" Margaret came closer to settle the poor girl's nerves. Margaret couldn't blame her. She looked exactly how Margaret felt inside.

"They're gone that's all I know." Bessie told her, taking a deep breath.

Edith was amazed that so little could be said and both knew exactly what they were talking about. She looked on in intrigue, trying to put the pieces together without asking any questions.

"I do not understand it. What could have happened?" Margaret said aloud but it was a question to herself.

Bessie looked to Margaret, contemplating whether or not to tell Margaret what was on her mind, especially in front of her cousin which was a stranger to Bessie. After a few pauses, Bessie stopped moving to stand in front of Margaret.

"It's Thornton."

Margaret picked her head up to look at Bessie with shock. She shook her head to protest but no sound or words came out.

"Margaret, you know it's true. Remember what Boucher said about him. Thornton had it out for him since he let him go. All the workers are saying he done away with the whole family to keep their mouths shut."

"No, Bessie. I will not believe Mr. Thornton would be capable of that." _Was she really implying that Mr. Thornton would…kill to keep his name safe? No, _Margaret refused to believe any of it.

"Whether it's true or not all the workers are at Thornton's now." Margaret's heart beat faster with Bessie's words. "My father's gone to calm them, but there's no calming a sea of angry men, not when it was one of their own. Damn fool."

Bessie was worried for her father not for Thornton. But Margaret's heart was pulling her to Marlborough Mills. She had to warn Mr. Thornton, Fanny and their mother. This wasn't right. Margaret had no time to contemplate whether Mr. Thornton was guilty or not. She could not stand by and let an angry mob get their hands on an innocent man. She ran from the room, disregarding the pleas of her cousin and Bessie to stop and come back.

The only sound she was paying attention to was the beat of her heart in her ears and the swell of blood pumping through her erratic body as it moved swiftly through the empty streets of Milton. She knew where everyone was heading or where they already were and she ran faster with the thought that she might be too late.

Pulling her skirts so she didn't trip over herself, she went in a blur around corners and across puddles from the night's rain. The day was still hazy and it matched the darkness of the events playing out in the senseless town. Margaret had no thought s except to save Mr. Thornton.

Her breath burned her lungs as she pushed herself to go faster. She lost her hat not knowing or caring whether it was left in the streets or at the Higgins. She was sure both Bessie and Edith would come after her, but they could not stop her now. Before she knew it she was at the entrance to the mill yard. The green, wooden doors had been forced down, the hinges splintered as the weathered wood gave way by a great force. Margaret's heart settled as she stopped to look at the damage, it was then she noticed the hum coming from the yard. The roar of the crowd of angry men was deafening as she stepped through the threshold.

Before her were the men from the mills, Boucher's friends, and enemies of Mr. Thornton. Their erratic and heated shouts were muffled together to create a spurn of hatred towards the mill owner. As Margaret assessed the scene before her, she felt her courage dissipate. _What could she do?_

An image from one of the windows caught Margaret's eye. It was brief, but it sent the mob further on their pursuit of whoever was hidden inside the house. She saw the pale face again and realized it was Mr. Thornton. He moved from the window, Margaret inched forward toward the crowd to see what he was doing. _Please stay inside, do not come out_! She pleaded silently_._

The door to the house opened, and the men became ravenous at the sight of the mill owner. Margaret's heart plummeted. She pushed her way through to get closer to him, to tell him to get back inside. The harder she pushed the angrier the men seemed to get, but she forged on, never taking her eyes off of him. She willed him to see her to understand why she was here and what danger he was putting himself in, but he kept his eyes on the mob in front of him. His stance dared them to come closer, but none did. Margaret wondered what would happen, how would this end?

"What have you done with them, Thornton?!"

"Murderer!"

"Devil!"

Margaret heard their angry words and wondered how anyone could think that he was capable of such accusations. She knew these were Boucher's friends and they listened to his tales of the Thornton's, but Margaret wouldn't believe it. _She couldn't_.

She was closer to him now but he still hadn't seen her. The men noticed her, but instead of calming themselves at her presence, the sight of her seemed to spurn them on. They knew who she was: upper class and friend to the Thornton's. Regardless of the kindness and friendship she might have showed to them, she wasn't one of them, in their eyes she was just like Thornton. The more she pushed, the more the attention settled on her and soon people started to resist her and push back. It became harder as Margaret found herself blocked from Mr. Thornton's path completely. Hands were holding her back, keeping her from going to him.

She tried to get his attention by yelling to him, but the cries from the crowd drowned her out. Stuck in the middle if a group of men that tried to push her away, she became frantic, not only was she being kept from going to Mr. Thornton's side but now she was a target.

"What are you doing here? Here to protect the killer?!" One of them yelled at her, pushing her into another man's path. He pushed back sending her forward.

"Let me through!" She tried to get past, but they were relentless.

"He's a murderer!"

She ignored their words and kept her focus on Mr. Thornton. He still didn't move from where he stood, overlooking the crown of angry workers that wanted nothing more than to get their hands on him. She saw a few bolder men making their way to him up the steps.

She panicked and called to him, even as she was being pulled away, "John!" She yelled to him, _please see me, hear me!_

"John!" She cried over and over. One of the few women in the midst of the mob had pulled on her hair, making Margret turn in anguish at the pain.

"Calling for him won't save him!" She spat to Margaret, seeing the hate in her eyes.

Margaret once again was being pushed around. Margaret feared that for whatever reason, her calling Mr. Thornton by his first name made the crowd turn on her more, as if she was someone to him. She could have laughed at them. She was nothing to him. She only needed to make sure that he was safe, she knew he was innocent.

"Stop! Please stop!" Margaret yelled to them, their faces becoming blurry as she was turning dizzy from the crowd pulling and pushing her. "John!" she tried once more.

"What makes you think he'll save you?!" She heard someone yell and before she could close her eyes, she saw a man pick up a stone from the floor and throw it right at her. She fell, limp on the concrete, everything going black.

* * *

Mr. Thornton had stood, looking at the faces of the men who wanted his blood. _How could he blame them?_ His crimes were greater than that which they were accusing him of. He welcomed the chance for someone to get their revenge on him. A part of him thought he deserved no better.

He was ready for them. Then he saw her. _Margaret?!_

His demeanor changed in an instant. He unfolded his hands from their stern position to grab the railing that so far had kept the mob from getting at him. He saw her in the middle of the crowd being pushed and pulled between a few of the men. The sight of their angry and forceful hands on her sent his rage boiling through him.

"John!" Her plea for him sent him down the steps to her. He lost sight of her when he was at level with the angry men and women. He could hear her call for him repeatedly, and his heart felt close to giving out at the sound of her screaming his name. He fought through the crowd until everything seemed to stand still and he couldn't hear Margaret anymore. The once angry men turned and stopped to look in the direction of where he had seen Margaret.

The silence was deafening and Mr. Thornton feared the worst.

"Margaret?!" He pushed through, but the men gave way without a fight. He came to where everyone's attention was averted. Margaret's still body had stopped the ravings of the mob as they looked on at what their actions had caused. Coming to their senses they looked to Mr. Thornton in anguish and guilt as the woman lay on the floor, the blood from the gash in her head seeping into her dark hair and onto the bricks.

He was by her side in a second.

"Margaret?" He held her limp head in his hands as he tried to assess the damage. She seemed lifeless and the blood pouring from her urged him to move quickly. He picked her up in one swift move, her limbs hanging as her head rolled to the side. He could have cried out in anguish at the sight of her body as it lay like a rag doll in his arms.

"Move! Get out of my way!" He didn't need to push through. Soon everyone started to make their way from the scene, not willing to stay around to see what was going to happen. He moved with haste to the stairs and through the house. As he entered the house he looked down at Margaret's pale face. The red coming through her wound matched the shade of her lips as they parted, her low uneven breathing making him insane with worry.

"Mother! Call the doctor!" He yelled through the empty rooms, his voice echoing, but not even Margaret could hear him.

He set her down on the couch, propping her head up on a pillow. He ripped his cravat off of him to heed the blood on her temple. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, willing her to open her eyes.

"Margaret?" He whispered. "Open your eyes. Come back to me, my Margaret."

She didn't stir.

"Please Margaret. Open your eyes for me." He took her cold hand in his as he brought it to his lips to kiss them. "God, please spare her." He shook as the anger faded and the worry and guilt took over his body. He couldn't stand the sight of her as she was. Her lifeless form taunted him and told him he could not protect her. _She called for him and he did not save her!_

The sound of footsteps from the other room alerted him that his time alone with Margaret was running short. He stole himself another kiss to her hand and straightened himself.

"What happened?" Mrs. Thornton for once looked frantic as she saw her son return from facing that mob. She was relieved to see him untouched but the look on his face told her that he had suffered internally. She saw Margaret lying on the couch.

"Oh no." Fanny gasped.

"I'll go for Doctor Donaldson." Mrs. Thornton left in haste without a second thought.

Fanny went to Margaret's side immediately. John turned form them to compose himself. Taking a deep breath he readied himself for whatever the outcome.

"John, what happened? Why was she out there?" Fanny worriedly dabbed at Margret's wound while holding her hand.

"I do not know." John's anger returned. "But they turned on her instead of me."

"This is not your fault, John. How could you know she was among them?"

"They were here for Boucher!" He exploded. "She must have known too." He said regretfully.

"She would have nothing to do with this. I know she wouldn't. They must have turned on her for some reason we do not yet know of."

Mr. Thornton could have laughed, but the situation and Margaret's still body kept him from revealing his true feelings. For whatever reason Margaret was amongst the crowd, he had failed her. She was lying unconscious in their sitting room because he did not get to her in time.

"She called for me, Fanny. And they did this to her, because of me." He said with pain in his eyes.

Fanny said nothing, knowing no words could console her brother when he was like this. She had never seen him so distraught and hoped that when Margaret awoke, she would have some explanation for him.

A few moments passed as they waited for their mother to return with the doctor. Neither said a word to each other as the ticking of the clock counted down the seconds that Margaret lay unconscious.

* * *

Margaret could feel her head pounding and every time she tried to open her eyes the light sent a bolt of pain through her. She squeezed them shut as she heard muffled voices around her. She tightened her hand around something solid as she tried to move.

"Margaret? Oh, John she is waking!" She heard Fanny's voice, the high pitch making her wince.

"Margaret?" _John, she heard him and he was well! _Mr. Thornton was at her side again touching her temple. "Margaret, can you hear me?"

She nodded. As she opened her eyes through the pain she saw Mr. Thornton looking down at her.

"What happened?" She asked, the ringing in her ears causing her to close her eyes again.

"You were hit in the head, Margaret. You have been unconscious for a few minutes." Fanny told her.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No." Mr. Thornton said regretfully. "Just you."

"I will get some water." Fanny left the room, leaving the two of them alone. Mr. Thornton took Margaret's hand as Fanny left it empty and his heart soared that she didn't resist his touch. She held his hand firmly to her chest.

"You are all right?" She asked him.

He couldn't believe it. _She was_ _the one suffering from a terrible blow and she asked after him!_ If he thought he couldn't love this woman any more, he was wrong.

"I am well. I am sorry this happened to you, Miss Hale." He covered their intertwined hands with his other one, anchoring himself to her more securely.

"I have done nothing I won't do again. It was of my own actions that put me here." She smiled half heartedly as he sat next to her. "Will you help me sit up?"

He gently pulled her from her position, grabbing her by her shoulders bringing their faces close enough that she could feel they were almost cheek to cheek. He propped a pillow behind her so she could sit more upright.

"Is that better Miss Hale?" He asked as he tried to hide away the heat rising in his face.

"Yes, thank you." She said as she relaxed against the soft pillow. She was content in this moment. He was untouched and the mob had done no more damage to themselves or any others.

"My mother has gone for a doctor." John looked to Margaret as she rested comfortably and she nodded her head.

He couldn't stand another moment in her presence without knowing why she was with the mob. He knew it probably wasn't appropriate with what had happened to her, but he had to know. "Do you believe them?" John asked suddenly, startling Margaret.

"What do you mean?" Margaret asked, confused at his sudden question.

"You were down with the men. Did you believe them? Did you condone their actions and why they were…"

"No! No of course not! I came to warn you and your family. But I was too late. I'm sorry Mr. Thornton but I was too late!" Margaret's head pounded with the force of her declaration. _Did he really believe she had thought him capable of such an act as murder?_

"Why would you do that Margaret? You reckless, brave woman. Why?" He held his now soaked cravat firmly to her head, making sure she wasn't seriously injured and delirious.

"You were in danger." She said simply. She tried not to wince from the pain in her head but hoped he wouldn't stop touching her, she felt so safe and warm.

Mr. Thornton shook his head in disbelief, but held her hand firmly. "You must never put yourself in harm's way for me. Never."

"I cannot stand by as an innocent man is being punished for a crime he did not commit_." Especially when it is you in danger,_ she thought.

"You sound so sure, Margaret." _If she only knew what I am guilty of, she would not readily come to my aid._

"Would you lie to me if I asked if what they say is true?" Margaret asked scared that his answer would be the one she didn't want to hear.

He looked at her for the briefest of moments and told her, "No, I would not lie."

"Is it true?"

Before he could answer her, his mother walked through with the doctor. "Where is Fanny?" His mother asked as she watched her son take his hand away from Margaret's hold and he stood further from her.

"She went to get water." Mr. Thornton told her without looking her in the eyes.

Doctor Donaldson examined Margaret and after a few baited breaths from the others, he said she could go home as long as she rested for the rest of the day.

"It looks worse than it is." He told them as he offered to take Margaret home.

Margaret was settled into the carriage with the doctor with the help of Mr. Thornton, through the dizziness and haze of the day she could just make out Mr. Thornton watching her leave the yard of the disheveled mill. John watched as she was gone from his sight. He went back inside where his mother and sister were waiting for him.

"Does she know, John?" His mother asked frantically.

"Do you think if she did she would be as calm as she was?" He spat.

"Well, why was she here?" His mother was confused.

He looked to Fanny, trying to believe the truth for himself. Was it possible he could be indebted to Miss Hale? Did she really care about him?

"She came to warn us of the mob."

John could see her sister smile with the news, and he could let himself feel the joy of such a gesture for a moment.

"But, she will find out soon. She is observant and already has her doubts. With the passing of this event she will have time to contemplate what has happened. Eventually, she will know." Mr. Thornton said with worry. He turned from them to steal himself and his composure.

"What will happen when she finds out?" Fanny asked, terrified to know the answer.

The silence from her mother and brother confirmed Fanny's fear. "Oh no, John, we cannot let that happen!"

"Fanny, there is nothing we can do." Mrs. Thornton told her regretfully. She felt such admiration for the girl that cared for her family in spite of everything and was finding it hard to imagine harm coming to her. Regardless of her lack of affection for her son, she owed Miss Hale a great deal.

"There is. I will not ask you to help me but I will protect Miss Hale, even at my own risk." John said determinedly.

"You would defy Mr. Bell?" Mrs. Thornton asked him with fear for her son.

"Yes. I already have. By falling in love with her I have already defied him. I cannot go back now."

Mrs. Thornton left the room in anger. John started to go after his mother but was stopped by Fanny.

"She could probably do with some time to think things over." Fanny told him putting her arm on his.

He nodded in agreement and went to the couch. He found his cravat lying on the floor, covered with the blood of Miss Hale, he winced at the sight.

"She will be fine." Fanny reassured him.

"I know. But you know it cannot be as it was before. She might not be so ready to be our friend once she finds out." Mr. Thornton took his sister's hand.

"You claim to love her but have no confidence that this will not deter her from us, from you?"

"She does not care for me." He said sadly.

"How do you know? Not just anyone would risk themselves from possible death." Fanny told him, trying to make him see what she saw.

"She would." Mr. Thornton had no doubt that someone with Miss Hale's character would take action like she had. That was just who she was. He had no hope that she could ever care for him, especially when she learns who he really is.

A/N: I feel like I'm dragging this on with not revealing Mr. Thornton's secret, its killing me! But I swear in the next few chapters A LOT is going to happen. Hope you guys like this version of the mob scene, sorry it's more graphic then some of you might like but there it is. In the book there was a scene with Mr. Thornton and Margaret as she was unconscious and I was really bummed to not see it played out in the BBC adaption, so I did my own version. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Lots to come, please read and review! Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I didn't mean to let it go this long, but this was a tricky one and I didn't want to post it until I was satisfied. Sorry for the wait and always enjoy reading and review if you'd like!**

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 12

In Margaret's heart she knew he was innocent. The only doubt in her mind was from Mr. Thornton's hesitation when she asked him if he would lie to her if she asked for the truth. _Was he telling the truth?_ Or was she as ignorant as he thought she must be? He didn't have the chance to answer her question but she thought her instincts must be right that he wouldn't have the heart to kill a man and his family.

_He just couldn't have done such a vile thing_.

Margaret still felt lightheaded from the blow she had received but could still bring to mind the look of anguish on Mr. Thornton's face as she left Marlborough Mills. Surely, she didn't mistake that? The utter despair and hopelessness he had upon on his face was enough for Margaret to stop the carriage and convince him all would be well, that she believed him. Was he worried for her well being, did he feel guilt what happened to her, or guilt that what he was being accused of was true? It was all too much to take in.

Had she done right in defending a man whose honor she wasn't sure of? Margaret couldn't feel guilty for doing what she thought to be the just thing in the moment. How could she come to regret what she knew was right in her heart? She couldn't condemn anyone else for doing the same.

One thought that pulled on Margaret's conscience, above all else, and what was causing her such distress was, _would she defend him if he was guilty? _Any other man that committed a crime would deserve whatever punishment would suit. And Margaret knew that she had full faith in the law, but as she thought about it, she couldn't be sure any more. Her brother's innocence in the mutiny didn't hold significance in the eyes of the law. _He was branded a traitor to the country for helping his fellow men, couldn't they realize that?!_But they couldn't, and now he is in hiding, because of that same law that she thought she could depend on when her brother needed the support. Circumstance wasn't brought to light in a court of law. It was all black and white. Margaret knew that wasn't the right way. And she couldn't let herself believe it was all black and white with the Thornton's. True, they were a secretive family and one with a dark past, but surely their hands were clean in all this.

Margaret knew the Thornton's circumstances and the kind of people they were, she had come to see Fanny as a dear friend and Mrs. Thornton, as harsh and domineering as she was, could have stood as a sort of mother figure in Margaret's eyes. She knew at least a little of the Thornton's secret past, and could see no reason why they should be thought of as less for it. In her eyes they were as good a family as any other.

But who was Mr. Thornton to her? She supposed she could count him as a friend, certainly not a brother, too young to look up to as a father figure, would she ever consider him as someone more? But more importantly_, would he?_

It was a ridiculous notion to Margaret that Mr. Thornton would want her as his wife. She had little to no money. She could see he did not care for her Southern ways or intellect. And now she had to wonder what he thought of her when she was amongst the brawl of men that had turned against him. Surely he believed her when she told him she was only trying to warn him and his family? Margaret felt her chest tighten that he might believe she thought him guilty. _No_, he had to have believed her.

The ride to Crampton was short with these thoughts running through her addled mind. She could hear the doctor making small talk but couldn't fathom to listen too keenly. As they arrived to her home, she suddenly felt dizzy. All she wished for was to return to her room in solace, to push away these conflicting thoughts.

"Miss Hale, do you want me to assist you?" Doctor Donaldson asked her as she stepped from the black carriage.

She turned abruptly, jostling her pounding head, "No, I do not wish my father to see."

He nodded, understanding her stubbornness was to save her father from stress. "Very well, remember to rest and you will feel right as rain soon enough." He closed the door of the carriage and told the driver to go on. Margaret watched as he went down the street and turned the corner. She wondered if he would go back the Marlborough Mills, _back to Mr. Thornton_.

She unconsciously held her hand to her tighter as she felt the ghost of a touch from when she held Mr. Thornton's hand to her. Had she been too forward? She was just completely relieved that he had been alright. Hopefully he didn't think her too wanton in her gesture. _But then again, he hadn't pulled away from her either._

"Margaret!" She turned her gaze from the street to Edith who was coming down the steps from her front door. "Thank god, you are alright. I heard that a woman had been injured in the mob, I was so frightened it was you!" Edith pulled her cousin to her, noticing her wince as their heads touched.

"I am well, Edith. I was just jostled around a bit." Margaret touched the temple of her head where she had been injured, hoping it didn't show.

"Margaret, I heard a woman was knocked unconscious! Tell me that wasn't you."

Margaret knew better then to lie to her cousin, "Please, I do not want Papa to worry. Please don't tell him."

"Of course I won't. But what were you thinking going into that mob of men. You might have been seriously injured or worse!" Edith's distress shown through as tears fell from her eyes.

Margaret couldn't disagree with her, she knew what she was facing was dangerous. But if she had to make the decision again, she found she would do it again, if it meant that Mr. Thornton would be untouched.

"Mistress, Miss Edith, come here quick!" Dixon called to them from the door.

Margaret and Edith entered the house to see Dixon already halfway up the stairs. "It's Mr. Hale, come quick!"

Margaret followed without question or hesitation. She beat Dixon to her father's room and opened the door before Dixon could make it. Mr. Hale was lying face up, his chest rising and falling slowly, his complexion was that of a ghosts and Margaret went to his side taking his hand in hers. The brittle flesh and bone in contrast with the warmth of her hands made her gasp.

"Dixon, what happened? He was well just this morning." Margaret pleaded with her eyes for Dixon to tell her the truth.

"He took a turn just an hour ago. It's not good Miss Margaret." Dixon said solemnly.

"Father, can you hear me?" Margaret whispered.

The only response that came from Mr. Hale's still form was an exhale of breath from his thin lips and Margaret could have sworn she heard her father call for her mother.

* * *

After sitting with her father for a few hours, Margaret was pulled away from him by Edith.

"You need your rest as much as he does. Come, Margaret, Dixon will look after him." Edith told her as she tried to pull Margaret from her relentless watch.

"I am not tired." Margaret said firmly.

"I fear with a mind like yours, you will always prevail. But your body on the other hand might be your undoing." Edith told her with a knowing smile. "Please, Margaret, take some tea with me. The sooner you get some rest, the sooner you can be back at your father's side."

With a heavy sigh, Margaret let go of her father's hand. "Alright, Edith."

The two cousins sat in the parlor room while Dixon looked after Mr. Hale. They were both silent for some time. Edith could see her cousin's mind racing. She knew Margaret had always had a restless mind, never focusing on one task or issue at a time.

"Margaret, what happened at the mill?" Edith finally asked.

"I told you Edith, it was just little blow to the head. I admit I was knocked out for a few moments, but I feel fine now, truly."

"That is not what I meant." Edith looked to her cousin, seeing right through any façade or wall she was attempting to put between herself and the outside world.

"Something else is troubling your mind. Was Mr. Thornton there?" Edith was quick to go on as she saw Margaret become flushed with, was it anger or embarrassment at being caught? "I only ask because I saw his carriage brought you home."

"Yes, he was there." Margaret tried to breathe her response out evenly. "He was very astute to my well being."

"Astute? Oh, Margaret you are a fool!" Edith exclaimed, huffing at the nerve of Margaret to try and play off Mr. Thornton's attentions as anything other then what they actually were. Edith knew he was besotted with her, _who wouldn't be?_ And she guessed the same for her cousin. Stubborn as she was she would never admit to it.

"Edith!" Margaret had gone red.

"You are. As observant and thoughtful as you are, you are completely blind sometimes." How could Edith get through to her cousin that what Mr. Thornton was trying to confess to her without words, but with actions? "Mr. Thornton cares for you."

"I am a friend to his sister, nothing more. Besides, I have nothing to offer him." Margaret knew this to be true. She may have been born and raised a lady, but she was practically destitute when neither she nor her father had any income to speak of.

"Except your heart." Edith sighed, finally getting closer to what was in Margaret's mind. "So you have thought about him."

"Edith please, there are much more important matters going on here." _Like whether or not Mr. Thornton was a murderer._

"What could be more important than the affairs of your heart and his?" Edith pleaded.

"A great many things you would not understand Edith." Margaret bit out.

Edith was silent and Margaret knew why. _How could she be so heartless and careless? _Margaret saw the look of realization and hurt on her cousin's brow as she must have been thinking of her dead fiancé.

"I'm sorry Edith. I know you have had more than enough to deal with in regards of the heart. You must miss your Captain Lennox."

"I fear I will always miss him. But I have hope that with the passing of time it will be easier to bear." Edith had already begun to look to the future, but still, some days were harder than others. "That is why, Margaret, you should not think of Mr. Thornton so lightly."

"I know I should not. But I cannot give myself hope when such accusations surround his character. What if it is all true?" Margaret had been asking herself this question, not knowing what she would do if he truly was the kind of man she feared him to be.

"So what if it is?"

"You cannot possibly believe that I would pursue a man who is a murderer?" Margaret asked with a laugh.

"I am not saying that he is one and you don't know that either. All I am saying is that you cannot go on as if he means nothing to you. Find out the truth from him. If he cares for you like I suspect he does, he will not lie to you."

"I already asked him." Margaret said quietly.

Hesitantly, Edith prepared for the worst and asked, "And what did he say?"

"He said he wouldn't lie to me, but he didn't say whether or not the accusations set upon him were true."

"Please, Margaret, do not push him away until you know him better. I'm not saying to give him your heart, just don't reject him outright. In a time like this he might need your friendship more than ever"

"I will try Edith. But I will not give in to anything until I knew the truth, for sure."

"That is all I'm saying."

Margaret was just about to go back to her father's side as the sun set and the darkness took over, when there was a knock on the door. And not the front door either. Edith and Margaret looked to each other in alarm. Margaret panicked at the first thought that it was Mr. Bell. _How ridiculous,_ Margaret thought. Then her heart quickened that it might be Mr. Thornton, come to inquire about her. _But it was so late, and he would have gone to the front door not the back._

Another knock sounded through the hall as she stood, contemplating whether to answer it. She was going to ignore it when her heart told her it was someone else.

"Margaret, you're not going to answer it? It's so late!" Edith also feared another visit from Mr. Bell.

But Margaret didn't hear her. She went out of the room and down the stairs. She ran to the door and pulled it wide before she could think on her instincts further.

He was silhouetted by the moonlight, his height and frame all too familiar to Margaret.

"Margaret?" He asked. And she knew it was him. Her brother had come home. Her heart leapt all thoughts of Mr. Thornton gone from her mind.

"Fred." Margaret went to him in the dark alley and embraced him without a care at the display in the open night air. He held her back, and hesitantly pulled away.

"Can I come in, Margaret? I don't want to be seen."

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry." She pulled him through, giving one last glance outside to make sure he wasn't followed or seen. When she closed the door, Fred pulled her to him again, squeezing her tiny frame off the floor as he lifted her closer to him. He smelled of sweat and something sweet, like sea air. His rough clothes itched her arms as she held him tighter.

"Margaret, you are scarcely a little girl anymore but that is how I will always picture you. My little Maggie." It was true she had much grown since his absence, she wondered if he would be disappointed at how much she had changed.

"Oh Fred, I have missed you. When did you receive my letter?"

"Just a week ago. I left as soon as I could."

"I'm sorry Fred. I shouldn't have sent it. I put you in more danger by bringing you back."

"You did well Maggie, I'm glad you did. After mother…well, I missed her when she passed, but I will not leave you alone if father should die. Is he…does he still live?"

"Yes, but I fear you made it just in time. He is not well Fred."

"Well, let us go to him."

* * *

Margaret had left Fred and their father alone. After the many years apart and so much lost between them she knew they needed time to grow once again. She knew it would be easy for her father, in his last moments he would have his boy and his girl by his side, ready to see his wife in heaven. For Fred though, after Mr. Hale would pass, he would have to leave again, leaving Margaret alone. This wasn't the first time Margaret had thought of what would become of her and her brother once both their parents were gone and they were separated from each other.

The idea of leaving with him to Spain was too much to bear. She would finally be with her brother and they could both move on together. But she couldn't leave Milton. She had to know what happened to the Boucher's and if the Thornton's truly had played their hand in their disappearance. And she couldn't think of leaving Fanny and Bessie. Once all that was settled, if it ever came to a close, could she leave her new friends behind? What else could possibly keep her here? Without much effort of thought, Mr. Thornton came to mind.

Margaret had come to realize that she cared for the mill owner more than she ever thought possible. But she couldn't let herself become too attached until she knew the absolute truth. Would she stay then? Or would her dreams of finding happiness in the industrial town crumble with the truth of Mr. Thornton's actions. _If only she knew the truth she could be spared with this uncertainty!_

Fred came down well into the morning, spending the whole night by his father's side. He couldn't believe the change in Margaret as he watched his sister sitting in their new home. He wasn't sure if it was the setting or the change of circumstance that had altered her. She seemed much grown since he had left. He hated himself for leaving his family alone to deal with the shame of a mutiny and the death of their mother. How he wished he could have seen her in her last moments on this earth.

He had complete faith in Margaret and her stern composure. He always thought she was the strongest of the family and the most level headed. He admired her for taking his place to make sure their parents were well looked after. How was he to leave her when he went back to Spain?_ Back to hiding like the coward he was!_

"Margaret?"

"Oh Fred how is father?" She set her book in her lap as her brother came to sit next to her. She was so enraptured with her thoughts she hadn't noticed him enter the room.

"He sleeps now." How could he say he feared the worst? He knew Margaret knew the truth anyway.

She nodded in understanding. "I am glad you were able to see him."

"I would have come sooner Margaret. If I had known the situation I would never have let you leave Helstone after mother's death." He sat before her nest to a silent Edith, who was reveling in the reunion of her cousins.

"How could you Fred? You were safe where you were." Margaret tried to make him see that he had no control over the path all their lives had taken.

"That's not good enough! I should have been there when my family needed me the most. Instead I hid like a coward." He stood abruptly to face the window, hiding his tears from his sister. "And now you're stuck in this hellish town, with no one to look after you.

Margaret wanted to tell him that they had made friends and they were looked after. Could she tell him of Mr. Thornton and her realized feelings for the mysterious mill owner? Instead she tried to reassure her brother of the obvious facts.

"No, Fred. You are not a coward. I will never know the extent of what happened on the ship but I know you acted bravely to save your fellow men, and you are brave to protect yourself and your innocence."

"I didn't feel brave, I was terrified." Margaret was shaken by the confession. "We put our Captain in a tug boat and set him adrift in the open water. It was not bravery Margaret, it was fear."

Margaret went to him and embraced him. "You should come away from the window."

He pulled from her, "You see! I cannot even look into the streets from my family's window for fear I will be caught and hanged. Let them find me!"

"No Fred you have to stay alive, I cannot lose you too!"

Fred pulled his sister to him, "I'm sorry Margaret."

"Please Fred, just stay with me until it's all over." She tried to stifle her tears but the more he held her the more she wanted to unload everything on him. Everything that had happened all that she had seen and what she feared was happening. She couldn't try to understand it on her own anymore.

"Will you come back to Spain with me?" Fred asked her. Hoping she would say yes to end this torment and guilt he felt that he would leave her again, this time alone.

"I will. But not right away, there are things I must take care of first."

"Then I will wait for you."

"No, you must go as soon as possible. The more time you spend here the more likely you will be caught."

"I cannot leave you again, Margaret."

"You won't. We will be together soon. Trust me."

"I do, I always have. My brave Maggie."

* * *

Edith had joined brother and sister for breakfast. Neither Margaret nor Fred were willing to sleep while they were together. They wanted to spend as much time as possible with one another. Edith and Fred had talked, and told each other what had transpired within the last few years. Fred had told his cousin how sorry he was for her fiancé and thanked her for being with Margaret. Fred told the girls about Spain and the wonderful people and his life there now.

"I live right along the shore. It is so bright that the waves glisten and the sand is so hot. You would not like it Margaret." He teased.

"Why ever not?" She asked with a smile, though she was trying to seem hurt by the remark.

"This cold and damp climate suits you very well. You have rosiness in your cheeks like you are thinking of something you should not." He touched said cheek.

"Oh Fred, please. You know I am well suited wherever I am. This town isn't so bad. I know it doesn't look it at first, but it has qualities to be admired."

"I dare say there are no dashing gentlemen to ease the eye. Poor Margaret, how will you find a beau?" He winked to Edith, letting her in on his teasing nature which Margaret was used to.

"Oh but she has." Edith spoke up, but realized it was not in her place to say. She was mortified. "Oh I'm sorry, Margaret."

"Is it true Margaret? Is there someone?" Fred asked her, genuinely interested and a little concerned that his sister had given her heart away to some tradesman.

"It's nothing like that Fred. And Edith I am not mad at you."

"So who is this man? A gentleman I hope."

"He is very honorable and has been kind to our father. Mr. Thornton was one of father's first and few pupils." Margaret hesitated. "And he owns Marlborough Mills, just down the street."

"I see." His smile faded.

"Oh Fred, I know if you knew him would find he is as much a gentleman as…" Margaret clamored to try and explain Mr. Thornton's worth.

"It is not that Margaret," he took her hand to reassure her, "I am very thankful to this Mr. Thornton to be there when I could not. If I could I would thank him with all my heart."

Margaret was pleased that her brother thought so of Mr. Thornton. She wondered if he would feel the same if he knew all about what had transpired with the Thornton family and their relations to Mr. Bell.

"So, you do not have an understanding with Mr. Thornton? I dare say I don't know how he could resist you Margaret. He must be a great fool!"

"No, he is not. I am afraid that the hesitation is on my part. If there is anything on his part that is. Fred, there are things that have happened that I'm not quite sure of. And I'm afraid that Mr. Thornton has something to do with it." Margaret confessed, creasing her brow as she felt something in her chest tighten.

"What has happened Margaret? You have not been safe?" He asked with concern.

"What I told you about Milton was true. There is goodness and kindness, but there is also fear and something I can't yet describe. I'm afraid I don't know myself."

"Well what is it Margaret?"

"You remember Mr. Bell?" Margaret looked to her brother to gauge his reaction.

Fred nodded his whole body stiffening with the mention of the man's name. He knew Margaret's feelings on the man and didn't desire him anywhere near his sister.

"He is Mr. Thornton's landlord." Margaret went into detail to Fred everything that happened since they came to Milton. Starting with the strange and unexplainable shadows and whispers, and the feeling of being watched, she told him of the Thornton's past, the séance, Mr. Bell and his hold over the Thornton family, the Boucher's disappearance and finally the riot. She made sure to leave out anything that would give herself away to her true feelings. Fred didn't move from his seat but hung his head. Margaret wasn't sure if he didn't believe her. Or if this was making him feel guiltier with his absence as these events had played out.

"You think I'm crazy don't you? That I've imagined all this."

A pause.

Margaret's heart sank, and then, "No, Margaret. I do believe you. As hard as it is for me to admit it, I believe you. I'm not surprised Mr. Bell has had this effect on you, but you are sure that this Mr. Thornton is honorable, that he will bring you no harm?" Fred was adamant that anyone trying to converse with his only sister had her best intentions at heart.

"That is why I must stay. I have to know how much he has to do with this." Saying it out loud was as good as a confession of love to Margaret's ears. Not many others could understand the way her heart and mind worked, and how often she let her head rule her heart, but she knew the closer she got to Mr. Thornton the harder it would be for her to deny him if he was guilty.

"Margaret, it is dangerous." Fred warned her.

"I will come to no harm." She had already put herself in harm's way for him, she would keep on doing it to prove his innocence. And as selfish as foolhardy as it may seem to others, she would risk her own reputation to save someone else's.

"No you don't understand, whatever this is, it is beyond you. It is even beyond the law and God. Whatever this is Margaret is not of this world."

"What do you mean? And how could you possibly know that?" Margaret's fear had risen with Fred's acceptance that this had something to do with a force that cannot be seen.

"Since my time in Spain I have heard tales. You know I was never one to believe in anything to do with the occult. But I have seen things too, Margaret. That is why I told you I was afraid while on that ship. I don't believe the Captain was a man, he was a demon. I scarcely couldn't believe it let alone say it out loud. And in Spain they have told me stories of demons taking the form of a man, and doing the devil's work. I don't mean to frighten you Margaret, but what you are dealing with might be out of your control."

Was what Fred saying true? How could demons and the occult come into play? What did this mean for the Thornton's? "Mr. Thornton is not a demon, Fred."

"He might not be. But Mr. Bell could."

Margaret let the realization sink into her.

"Think about it, Margaret. All those things that happened to you when you were just a child and now here in Milton. Is it a coincidence that it has something to do with Mr. Bell?"

"I can hardly let myself believe that Mr. Bell is a demon. Fred, this is nonsense!"

"But doesn't it make sense, Margaret?" Edith asked, no longer wanting to keep silent. "I have felt it too while in Milton. And after everything that has happened, is it really so farfetched?"

_Yes, it is all too fantastic to be true! _She would rather find out the Boucher's had met their end by the will of God, rather then it be something otherworldly. Especially if Mr. Thornton was involved. "If what you say is true, that Mr. Bell or Mr. Thornton is a demon in disguise, and then what does that mean for everything we were taught to believe? Am I supposed to just abandon God and forget that there is goodness in this world?"

"No, Margaret. You must believe and grasp onto the goodness even more now that you are in the middle of this. Do not abandon your beliefs but stay true to them that is your only hope. That is all the hope any of us have. If you let that hope go you are giving into the darkness. Don't let them win, my Maggie." Fred told her, looking her in her eyes, willing her to be strong.

Dixon entered the room, her face sullen and pale. Margaret wondered if Dixon had been listening in on their conversation.

"Dixon, are you well?" Edith asked.

"I'm sorry miss, I was making tea for your father when there was a knock on the front door." She paused. "It was Mr. Bell asking to see Mr. Hale. I told him he wasn't well and that you were in no mood to be receiving visitors. He didn't seem surprised to hear about Mr. Hale but you could imagine how shook up I was. He asked me to give this to you."

Margaret looked to the servant's hand to see a letter addressed to her. Margaret took the letter from her, trying not to let her hands shake. The room went silent as Margaret broke the seal and began to read.

_My Dear Maggie,_

_I hope this letter finds you and your father well. I hope Miss Shaw's company has been a comfort to you. I would like to come and give your father my regards, at your convenience of course. I will wait for your reply and hope to see you soon._

_Give my regards to Fred._

_Yours,_

_Edward Bell_

Margaret took the letter and ripped it in half before scattering it onto the floor. Fred was coming to her side as she took his hands to steady her.

"You must go Fred, now! He knows you are here!" She grabbed onto him frantically as if an unseen spirit would whisk him away before her eyes.

"Mr. Bell?!"

"Yes, you have to leave before anyone else knows."

"But, father, I cannot leave…" Fred was torn. _How could he leave now?_

"You have to, for me Fred!"

"I will not leave you now."

"If you stay you will be found and executed and I will surely be alone. If you leave now we have a chance that we will be together again. This is the right way." _He had to see this was the right way_.

"You are right Margaret. But I will leave tonight, no sooner. You cannot ask more of me then that."

"I can. You will leave tonight, but you will take Edith with you too."

"Margaret, no!" Both Edith and Fred erupted.

"Yes, Edith. You cannot stay. It seems anyone that is close to me is in danger. You will go with Fred to Spain. You can write your mother to tell her where you are once you are settled. I must see you both safe."

They made plans for Fred to leave with Edith that night. In the cover of darkness they could slip away out of the clutches of Mr. Bell. In the meantime, Fred said his goodbyes to his father and they were all silent with nerves for what was to come that night. Margaret feared her brother would be found out, that they waited too long. She tried to settle her nerves to keep her strength for what was to come. She had to be brave for her family's sake.

* * *

Night came and Margaret, Edith and Fred hid in the shadows as they made their way to the train station. Margaret's nerves were on fire, listening to every footstep and looking for moving shadows to make sure they were not being followed. They made it to the train station and found it empty. A sight that Margaret wasn't sure was a good thing or a bad thing. Neither did anything to calm her nerves. The vacancy of the usually bustling platform made her uneasy. The train was pulled into the station like it was waiting especially for them.

"Go now, both of you." Margaret urged her brother and cousin.

"Margaret, this isn't right, we can't leave you." Edith said on the verge of hysterics. She tried to be brave, but she was scared. Scared for her cousin and for herself.

"I must stay with father. It is too late now to argue. Please go."

Fred pulled Edith with him into the train, he shut the door to keep him from making any last minute decisions.

"Promise me you will be safe. You will come to Spain."

"I will, I promise."

Margaret watched as the train started to move from the station and her brother and cousin's faces disappeared from her sight. She couldn't look away or feel relief until the train was well and truly gone. To be honest she wouldn't feel relief until she knew they were safely in Spain.

Margaret turned, not wanting to be alone on the platform at night, and started to walk back home, alone.

A movement from the side of the station caused her to stop and look into the eyes of Mr. Bell. She thought she might die of fright that he was there with her and he had seen Edith and Fred get onto the train. She turned back, thinking for a moment that she could warn Edith and Fred that they were found out, but they were too far gone. She looked back for Mr. Bell and he was gone.

Margaret didn't know what to do. Should she run? Should she get on the next train and leave for good? But she couldn't leave her father. And she had vowed to herself that she would find out the truth before she left. She walked back, not caring if she was being followed. The reality that Mr. Bell was not of this world and that he had his mind set on her, for whatever reason, made her walk with a little more certainty and bravery. After all, now she knew what she was up against.

* * *

Since the riot at his mill, Mr. Thornton had thought of nothing except Margaret Hale. The danger she had put herself in for his family was too much for him to cope with the possibility of losing her. She had been so reckless and brave to go to that mob, _as if she could fight them all off!_

Beside the fact that she had willingly put herself in between the mob and his family, his mind couldn't get rid of the memory of her holding his hand to her chest. He thought she must have been delirious from the wound but his heart soared with the unabashed display and contact of warm, soft flesh. That it was Margaret Hale's hand that held his so close made Mr. Thornton's being hum with elation. Was he wrong to let himself want for so much? Could he ever truly have the love of such a woman?

The feeling was not to last though. A few days after the riot he had word of Mr. Hale's declining health. He wanted to see Margaret for his own selfish reasons if not to inquire after Mr. Hale himself. He was just readying himself to leave his mill early when Mr. Bell visited his office.

"Going somewhere?" He asked his tenant, making a note of the time as it was too early to clock out for the day.

"I thought to inquire after Mr. Hale. My mother has seen to the mill. Business is in good hands, I assure you." Now annoyed with his landlord's presence, Mr. Thornton knew he would not be let off so easily. _Damn him!_ Ever since Margaret's presence in Milton, Mr. Bell has made more calls then often. He could usually look forward to a whole year without a visit from him, but in the past few months he had seen more of Mr. Bell then he would like.

"I was just there yesterday, myself." Mr. Bell said, ignoring Mr. Thornton's foul mood. He knew very well why he wanted to go to Crampton and it had nothing to do with Mr. Hale's health.

Mr. Thornton seethed with the knowledge that Mr. Bell had been where he so longed to be. If he asked after Margaret, then he would know for sure of his feelings. Mr. Thornton laughed internally, _like he did not already know the affect Mrs. Hale had on him._ So he asked, "How did you find Mr. Hale?"

Without so much as a pause for regret at his next words he said. "He will die, soon enough."

_My poor, darling Margaret_, was all Mr. Thornton could think. He wanted to be there for her to comfort her in this time like she had done for him. He selfishly hoped she would cling to him and ask for his help. But he knew Margaret was not that type of woman. But still, he longed to know how she was fairing, with so much to tend to.

"I am sorry." Mr. Thornton said finally, his voice full of regret for so many things.

"She will be looked after, don't fret." Mr. Bell said jovially, enjoying it all a little too much. "After all, she has her Aunt and Cousin and of course Lennox."

_Lennox?_

_What had Henry Lennox to do with Margaret?_

A shiver ran up Mr. Thornton's spine at the name associated with Margaret. He knew the relation the Lennox's had with the Thornton's, _but who was Henry to Margaret?_

A feeling quite like jealousy ran through Mr. Thornton's being. A feeling he thought he had left behind him long ago, no longer in such a state of mind to care for anyone else's opinion of anything. But if Margaret, in her time of need, should go to this Lennox instead of him, he felt he wouldn't know how to cope with the woman he was growing to love deeply clinging to another man.

There was that word again, _clingy_. So unlike Margaret in every way. It was just like Mr. Bell to put these ideas in his head. He wished he would stay out of his head and mind his own damn business.

"I am glad she will have others to look after her." He said carefully and without emotion.

Seeing Mr. Thornton was not going to take his bait, Mr. Bell put it plainly, "After Mr. Hale passes, Margaret will most likely leave with Lennox. They must be making plans already. I saw the two of them at the station last night."

_Anger_.

Bitter jealousy had turned to cold, hard anger as Mr. Thornton thought of Margaret alone at night with another man. All thoughts and hope of ever being loved by her, gone with just a few words. He hated Lennox for winning Margaret and he hated Mr. Bell for putting him through this agony of lost hope.

_Heartbroken_.

This is what he must have felt. The desire to her safe and well was still strong in him, but all thoughts of him ever having a chance to be the one with her in the end, were dashed upon the wall like broken china. There was nothing to do now except get her away from here. And as hard as it was for him to admit it, he would rather Margaret be gone from here with someone else, then to be stuck here with him.

"I will go now, to see after Mr. Hale." Mr. Thornton left without waiting for a reply from his master. After all, what could he do to him that would be worse than this feeling?

Mr. Bell let him go. For now.

It was all too easy to convince the besotted mill owner that the man that he saw Margaret with was not Mr. Lennox but her brother. He would let things fall as they will for now, but later after everything was settled in Milton he would find her brother again.

* * *

Mr. Thornton trudged on to Crampton. His legs were as heavy as his heart. He could feel his pulse in his head and his mouth had gone dry. What would he say to her?

Would he ask her straight out if it was true? Would she end his misery and tell the truth or would she laugh in his face for his audacity? He had to know from her if what Mr. Bell told him was justified by the way the news made him ache all over. He didn't think he would ever feel bodily pain ever again. _How powerful the human heart was._

He was there at the door. His arm moved of its own violation as he rapped twice upon it. The sound echoed through his skull. Dixon answered and without a word led him to the drawing room. He was thankful she did not demand an explanation or pepper him with stupid questions. All he could do right now was to go to Margaret and see the look on her face as he asked her if it was all true.

He vaguely heard Dixon tell him Mr. Hale was too ill to receive visitors so it would be just be he and Mrs. Hale. _Good_, he thought. He didn't know if he could do this with the possibility of an interruption or witnesses to his plight.

The door was opened and her figure was outlined by the sunlight. She was facing the wall, her arms holding herself as if to keep herself from going anywhere. They were left alone, the door shut behind them. He dared not speak, afraid his hold on his emotions would crumble with the first glance of her face.

Margaret was so wrapped within her thoughts she did not know who stood behind her. But soon enough she knew she was not alone. She turned and upon seeing him looking at her with a questioning stare, his hands fiddling with his hat and gloves, she felt herself ease in his presence. For the moment her worries for Fred and Edith were put aside so she could relish this moment for what it was. Mr. Thornton was here.

They look at each other for a long pause.

"Are you well, Mr. Thornton?" She asks.

And it's like a breath of fresh air, hearing her voice. He takes in a deep breath like a drowning man clinging to life. For the moment he too can enjoy just them, here together.

"It is I who should be asking you that Miss Hale. How is your injury?"

She had quite forgotten about the whole thing. "Oh, it was nothing."

"Nothing? You were knocked unconscious." He said incredulously. He got the impression that she did not want to speak of her actions at the mill. Did _she regret them?_

"But I am quite well, as you see."

"Are you _well_ Miss Hale? I heard about your father. Is he…?" He stopped himself. He didn't want to say something that would end their moment or to distress her.

"I'm not sure." She said quietly now looking at her hands. "I truly don't know."

"Does he have someone to look after him?"

"I look after him!" Margaret huffed.

"Yes, of course, but has Dr. Donaldson been any help?"

"Of course he has. But I'm afraid there's little he can do at this point."

"What about you Miss Hale, are you looked after?" Would she tell him she has Mr. Lennox to look after her?

"I am." She was becoming worried that she would slip and say something to give Fred away.

"By who?" He couldn't believe his own ears. Did he really want to know so badly, to ease his heartache, to pry into her private affairs? _If she had been at the station with Lennox, then she didn't care too much about her reputation_, he thought bitterly. He needed to take control of this conversation and not let his heart rule his head. "I mean, when your father…passes, who do you have to look after yourself?"

"I have a cousin in London." That wasn't too far from the truth. She wondered if Edith and Fred were closer to Spain and far way from where they could get caught.

"The Shaws?" Was she so relentless not give herself away?_ It must be true._

"Yes. Edith left just yesterday to be with her mother."

_She is lying. Mr. Bell was right._

"I know who was here yesterday, Miss Hale." Mr. Thornton saw through the lie and couldn't take the betrayal any longer. Unknown to both of them, Mr. Bell had played both of them against each other.

"Have…have you been spying on me?! You and Mr. Bell, I knew it!" Margret didn't want to believe that Mr. Thornton would fall so easily under Mr. Bell's command, but she could see it now. And she felt all the worse for it.

"I cannot speak for Mr. Bell, but I am not spying on you Margaret! I am trying to look after you!" How could he change this around? _He had to make her see!_

"It is not your duty to look after me." She backed away from him, the movement another stab at Mr. Thornton's heart. _Always trying to get away_ _from me_.

"When your father is gone, he will want…" He thought he could appeal to her with her father. It was low, but he knew how much they meant to each other. And he would do anything to make her see his reason.

"I am going away." She blurted out. Startling him and causing a panic to rise in him. _She cannot go away, not now._

"Away to London?"

Margaret couldn't lie anymore. Not to him, she was tired and scared and just wanted to be left alone. But she still couldn't trust him with Fred's secret and now especially since Edith was with him. Did she make the right choice to get Edith involved?

"Far from here and far from London." _Would he understand that the secret was not hers to tell?_

"That is not possible."

_No._

"You cannot hold me here. You or Mr. Bell. I have no obligation to neither of you, nor you to me. You will be free from your burden that you claim to have from me."

"If you leave, Mar…Miss Hale, I will be unable to protect you."

"Protect me?" He heart seemed to stop. The fear that everything she thought was going on in Milton could be true, everything Fred told her that she must face with courage, didn't make her feel brave in the slightest. What if Mr. Thornton really was evil? But he said he wanted to…_protect me?_

"Yes."

"From what?" _Or whom? Mr. _Bell came to mind, did he want to protect her from himself too?

"I…cannot say." He was afraid to tell her. Now that the moment had come, he couldn't lose her.

"I don't need protection."

"Please, Margaret, do not push me away. It is not only an obligation to your father I feel, but I need to be as close as possible to you because I…" He swallowed hard. Was he really doing this? The possibility of making her repel any further from him would bring her more danger. And if Mr. Bell knew he had confessed himself, then there was no stopping him from going after Margaret.

"You what?"

"Because I love you." Simple. _It wasn't hard at all_.

Margaret was speechless.

"I loved you the moment I set my eyes on you." It was easier now. The weight lifted from him, setting him soaring to the moon and back.

"I was in my nightgown." She recalled the day they met and how mortified she was. _Could he really have loved her then?_

"Can you blame me?" He asked with a smirk that he couldn't keep hidden. He felt like a school boy who had been caught looking under skirts.

"Mr. Thornton, this is inappropriate." Margaret flushed, the seriousness of the moment forgotten as she took his meaning.

"I'm sorry Miss Hale, but I cannot go on another second without telling you. Is it too much for me to hope that you might…" He was going too fast. Before he could stop himself he was giving too much of himself away.

"You never answered my question." She stood rigid before him.

"What?" He instantly deflated. The lightness and flutter his heart felt was instantly gone with her stern expression.

"Is what Boucher said true? And the men? The people who accused you of those horrendous acts?"

"Is that all you care about? The word of a lowly worker, you think they are your friends. You are a fool Margaret." He turned from her, trying to come down from the high he felt just a moment ago.

"You claim to love me and insult me by using my Christian name, yet you cannot tell me the truth! What happened to Boucher?!" She pleaded for the truth. She did not expect the answer that she received.

"I killed him, is that what you want to hear?!"

"No." Margaret whispered as she felt her heart breaking.

"You seem to think it was the only possible explanation. You chose to believe your so-called friends. Where are they now?" He spat at her, standing close to her as he towered over her. _If she wanted the over bearing master, that is what she will get._

"I'm asking, to give you the chance to redeem yourself, to prove everyone wrong." Margret held herself in check, she would not cry in front of him. She couldn't let him know that her heart ached for him, even with the truth. That was what she feared all along, that she would still love him no matter the truth. She was ashamed.

"Well, now you have your answer. I'm sorry to disappoint you Miss Hale."

He leaves her without another word, no goodbye, no last glance. Just gone from her sight.

Margaret goes to her father's side. She cries until she falls asleep next to him.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: From now on leave everything you know about North and South behind. We're getting down to the nitty gritty of this horror version. As I upload this I am writing the next chapter, so expect it soon. Enjoy!**

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 13

Margaret was walking through the gardens of Helstone, admiring the bloom of the season. _It was chilly for a summer day_, she thought. As she roamed the grounds and enjoyed the sights she could hear her family in the house. He father's laughter filtered out into the open air, filling Margaret's heart with a joy that only comes from hearing the voice of a loved one. Then her mother's and brother's laughter joined in with her fathers, creating a wonderful melody of happiness.

_This isn't right._

As soon as the joy of such a dream appeared within Margaret's mind, it vanished with the first inclination that it was not real. The sunny sky gave way to thundering clouds that pelted the earth with pounding rain. Winds so fierce, they could have knocked her off of her feet sent her running into the house for shelter.

Margaret made it through the door and sighed with relief to be gone from the storm. She knew she was dreaming but couldn't wake from her slumber. She walked in a daze, expecting at any moment that she would wake up, but she didn't, she walked aimlessly through her home, _or_ the house that _was_ her home.

The house was barren, no pictures were hung on the wall, what little furniture there was, was covered with white sheets, and dust was caked on every exposed surface. She found no sign of her father, mother, or brother. She could hear them plain as day just a moment ago. Something akin to loneliness crept inside her, the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight as she feared she was not alone in the empty house.

She walked down the hall towards the sitting room where her family spent most of their leisure afternoons together. The clicking of her footsteps echoed throughout the house as the wind howled. As she came to the room her fears came true. A man had his back to her, he was facing the wall as if in a loss, not really looking for anything in particular or waiting for her presence. A sudden wave of realization came over Margaret as she recognized the form in front of her.

"Mr. Thornton?" She asked, disbelieving.

He turned at the sound of her voice and was just as startled to see her before him. His brows furrowed as he took her in, looking equally lost as he was.

"Margaret?" He whispered as he stood in place.

It did not escape her notice that he used her first name so informally. She ignored the knot in her stomach that was caused by him speaking her name to her. All at once Margaret's thoughts came to her. Although she knew she was dreaming she still couldn't get over the reality that she felt. Everything seemed so real to her, she could even hear Mr. Thornton's soft breathing over the wind and rain that was threatening to tear the house down. She realized she could even smell the mill on him.

"What are you doing here?" She meant to ask, _what are you doing in my dream?_ But how would he know if she was the one who had conjured him from her subconscious?

"Where am I?" He looked around him like he was baffled himself.

_What a strange dream this was_, she thought.

"Helstone." She replied simply with a smile. The familiar surroundings of her childhood home making her feel safe.

"Are you dreaming Miss Hale?" He asked her, furrowing his dark brow even more.

"I…I am. How did you know? That is, I think I am." Margaret's vision blurred as the edges of the room started to compress and fold in. The dream was ending and she was fully aware that she would wake at any moment.

"How can this be? I don't understand." Mr. Thornton told her with unease in his deep voice as he came towards her. The closer he got to her the more the picture faded and turned black. She stepped further away from him, not wanting to wake up until she could understand all of this.

"I thought _I_ was dreaming." He said.

That was the last thing she heard before she picked her head up with a gasp and she was back at Crampton in her father's room. She had stayed by his side since he had taken a turn for the worst. It had been a week since her conversation, no her argument with Mr. Thornton. And she had had similar dreams like this one since then. Every time though, it felt more real than ever. But this was the first with Mr. Thornton.

She wiped the tears from her eyes, feeling his absence more acutely as she woke to the present. He had felt so real, so alive and warm in her dreams that she wondered which was reality and which was the dream? How odd that she should dream such real visions.

Mr. Thornton had been heavy on her mind, even more so now since his unanswered declaration of love hung in the air, forgotten to anyone but Margaret. She wanted to tell him how she loved him and how she regretted letting him feel as if she did not care for him.

But she couldn't. He confessed to being a murderer.

A confession that, to Margaret, didn't dim the feeling in her heart of love for him. She chastised and scolded her own heart that she would never give him up no matter his actions or character. The very best she could do was to try and forget that he ever declared himself to her, but it was useless. Minute after minute and day after day, his confession to her repeated itself in her mind. It renewed the pain, opened the wound over and over again, that she could never return the feeling to him.

It was pure agony. Margaret wished she had never fallen in love with him or ever came to Crampton.

The only thing that kept her occupied and useful was to work tirelessly at her father's side and wait for a letter from Fred and Edith with news of their safe landing.

But even with these tasks, the frequent dreams kept Margaret in a constant state of restlessness and longing. She wanted Mr. Thornton, but would not let herself succumb to him and his actions.

And then there was Mr. Bell.

Margaret feared that he would go after her brother and Edith. What else did he know? And more importantly, did he know that Margaret knew about him? She was hesitant to really believe what Fred said he was. She had to find out even with the threat that the knowledge posed to her. But like she willed herself before, she _would_ find out for her families sake.

Pulling herself away from her father and letting Dixon sit with him, she reluctantly left them to search for answers. The first logical place for answers was of course, the library. She sincerely doubted though how much the public library had on books on the occult. But on she went, the chilly air biting at her nose and cheeks. She kept her head down hoping not to catch the notice of anyone who might suspect what she was up to. She had no idea how far Mr. Bell's power went and who was keeping an eye on the streets for him. _Let him know I'm on to him_, she thought, _He cannot stop me now._

The library was warm and empty. It was small but the books were piled from floor to roof, stacks and stacks and back to back the spines faced the center of the room where a long table was waiting for eager readers to sit at and waste the time away. In the center of the room hung a large chandelier, the wax from the candles dripping onto the floor and table.

Margaret had absolutely no idea where to even begin looking for books on the occult_, if there were any_.

Margaret was startled as a little man came from behind the front desk. "Can I help you miss?"

After regaining her wits, Margaret nodded and said, "I'm looking for a book, well a specific kind of book. I'm afraid it's not normally something that is inquired after, only I'm just curious…" She stopped, as she fidgeted with her gloved hands that were still cold. The man peered over his glasses that were held together by wire and string. His haggard appearance made Margaret wonder if he had ever left the library in his life, and then thought _what a lovely notion that would be._

"What subject is this _specific book_?" He emphasized, seeing her unease in the matter.

"Well, it's on the…the occult." Margaret swallowed hard. Surely this reclusive man didn't deal with Mr. Bell?

He eyed her skeptically, sizing her up. She didn't falter under his scrutiny.

"Come with me." He told her as he limped, hunched over, through the library. Margaret followed and found, to her surprise, that the library was bigger than it seemed. The further they went, deeper into the room, the more the space opened up to reveal more spines lined along the walls. The end of the library opened up into a fantastic dome that reached further up over their heads. The windows high above illuminated the circular room they presided through. Margaret wondered how high the building must be as she watched the dark clouds over head rush past letting the dim light shine and then fade throughout the room. Soundless birds flew over them and for a brief moment, Margaret wondered that she never once took the time to look up in Milton.

"This way." He called to her as he walked towards an iron, spiral staircase that led further towards the next floor.

Margaret was in silent awe as to the discovery of such a place seemingly hidden in the darkest corner of Milton. She wondered if anyone even knew this place existed.

As if able to read her mind, the man said to her as he led her up the staircase, "I don't get very many guests coming through eager to read, much less ones inquiring after something as dark as the occult." He said looking down under his steps as Margaret peered up ay him through the iron railings at him.

"Like I said, it's just a curiosity."

"That's how all things start. You know what they say; curiosity is the lust of the mind." *

Margaret merely smiled. She wondered if he had any real idea what kind of information she was after.

Once they came to the second floor, which wasn't so much a floor as a ledge to get to the higher level of books, a rail connected to the stairs lined along the room as a barrier from falling over, he showed her to a section that she would have never ventured to.

"I believe this," He gestured to the whole wall, "is what you are looking for."

Margaret sighed, "I hope so." She looked up at the pile of book before her, feeling intimidated.

"Is there something more specific I can help you with?" He saw her apparent distress of such a collection.

"Demons?" She asked quietly. When she looked at him from the corner of her eye she saw he had a knowing grin on his face as he studied her.

"Demons, eh? Heavy subject matter for mere curiosity." He stated and Margaret felt he knew her intention all too well. She shied away from him, unsure that she would even find anything useful to her, especially in this section.

"Try this one." He pulled out a book, its spine close to disintegrating. The gold leafing and inscriptions were fading to a dull brown, the worn burgundy leather faded and dusty, barely being held together by the binding put together so long ago.

"It's ancient." Margaret said in wonder.

"Very." He said, enjoying her attention to the old piece that was one of many in the puzzle of his library.

"I'll leave you to it." He left her to go down back to the front desk. Before he could descend down the stairs she called to him.

"Thank you, for this. What was your name?" Margaret asked him.

"You may call me, Christopher." He smiled over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Christopher." He left her alone to turn over the pages of the old book. She leafed through the stained pages until she decided to grab a few more off the shelf that looked hopeful. After securing her finds in the crook of her arm, Margaret made her way back down the stairs to the long table.

She sat for hours, forgetting about the time as she fully amerced herself in her task and findings. She found it incredibly difficult to understand the meaning and reason for all these tales and folklores of unholy and evil beings. But none the less she was transfixed and eager to learn more. Time passed her and darkness filled the room, save for the illumination of the massive chandelier. Her mind wandered and her imagination took flight once she read on about the things you weren't supposed to know or believe in. But here they were in books. These things were obviously studied and wondered over by many before her.

In the first book that Christopher pulled out for her to read she came across information that was unsettlingly close to her fears of Milton:

_**Demons can be broken down into three categories.**_

_**The first, Hell Demons: The "Actual" demons, as in the ones that are born from all the Hate and all evil in Hell, along with the Dark Fallen Angels.**_

_**The second, Dimensional Demons: Beings that inhabit different dimensions or planes of existence. They could have dark intentions or be born out of spite, vile and evil. These demons usually have an ethereal existence or not a very solid composition in out plane of reality and the physical.**_

_**And thirdly, Earth's Demons: Beings that inhabit the Earth.**_

_**From the Greek 'daimon', or spirit, demons are powerful supernatural beings existing between gods and humans. Traditionally benevolent, demon began to take on sinister themes within the writings of Plato. When the Old Testament was translated from Hebrew to Greek, the word mal'ak was used to describe foreign or evil supernatural beings. In the New Testament writings, most of which were written in Greek originally, the word daimon became associated with Satan and his minions and thusly took on a distinctly evil meaning.**_

_**As Christianity continued to spread, the word demon came to describe many of the animistic spirits of Northern Europe which those carrying Christianity into the region preached against. The very name of demons has been co-opted to describe this process, the "demonizing" of foreign or contrary mythologies in the interest of spreading an invasive belief system.**_

_**Hebrew and Christian culture considered all demons evil. In 1589, a leading expert named Brinsfield listed major demons and their specialties. These included Lucifer (Pride), Satan (Anger), Beelzebub(Gluttony) and Belphegor (Sloth).**_

_**Demons walk the earth. They can take on animal or human form.***_

A depiction of a demon was inscribed in the opposite page: A ram, with the body of a man with wings sat under a flame, on either side of the creature was the sun and moon, both depicted in the stage of a half eclipse. Margaret steadied herself and took a breath, filling her lungs with musty, dry air. She read on, against the fear of sating her curiosity and finding out more then she wanted to know.

_**In ancient Greece a Daimon, as they were called, was considered neither good nor evil. These were considered to be "guardian spirits" and everyone had one. Demons were not labeled evil until dualistic religions came into being and all spiritual beings were labeled either good or evil. This was when demons gained the reputation of trying to keep man from having a bond with God.**_

_**Different cultures view spiritual matters and even spiritual beings differently. What may be a god in one culture, another may view as a devil. Angels, demons, djinn, devas, and fay are all basically the same but are rooted in varying cultures and traditions.**_

_**In Pythagoreanism angels and demons are reputed to dwell in the air, in between gods and men. This is why demons, as well as angels, are usually depicted with wings.**_

_**A demon is the same as an angel usually. The word angel is translated from the word Malakh, which comes from the Greek "angelos". The Malakh is the dark side of god. This is the side which faces and interacts with humans. Since it is turned away from divinity, it eventually became associated with evil.**_

_**There are differences between angels and true demons. The main difference lies in the fact that a demon is usually a being that holds power or influence over the negative side of divinity and life.**_

_**Demons are also guides to the transformational process which lies in the underworld and death. Demons are represented as "Fallen Angels". A demon is actually a mediator of darkness, a "Dark Angel" in essence. These angels did not "fall" as is popularly believed. They "descended" to become the Keepers of the mysteries of the underworld.**_

_**The term "dark angel" is not limited to the fallen angels known as demons. There are other types of dark angels. These are the ones that do not reside in the underworld, but are possessed of dual natures, nonetheless. The dark side of these angels carry destruction. This is the negative side of the spiritual. The spiritual world, as well as the physical world, must have positive and negative in order to operate correctly.**_

_**The angels are also said to carry the swords of punishment. They are also keepers of the legends and secrets.***_

Margaret thought of Mr. Thornton then. How much had he to do with all of this? Was he a demon like Mr. Bell or was he a dark angel under the rule of a demon? Or was he simply a human like her that was in too deep with Mr. Bell's schemes and ministrations with the mortal world?

This morning Margaret could scarcely believe that the occult or supernatural had anything to do with the events and people in Milton. But now she was sure, after all that had happened and all that she had seen. It was all true.

Now only one thing could be done. _How do I stop them?_

Margaret took another book from her pile and scanned through for anything that would give her an idea or a start to what could be done against demons and evil spirits. There was nothing. Margaret could find no such information that would help her in stopping Mr. Bell. She felt strange thinking of him as a man, if he really was an evil demon, he couldn't be likened to a gentleman. The name Mr. Bell was from her childhood, a name her father used for one of his old friends, and a name others would use to praise a respectable, successful man.

Not to Margaret, he was something entirely different in her eyes. She wondered just how far his powers went and how much harm he could do. So far the only damage he had done was cause her distress at his very presence and who knows what he's schemed behind her back? She knew he had his hand in the Boucher's disappearance. And she knew from Mr. Thornton's confession that he had done away with them under Mr. Bell's command. Would she be able to face him, could she tell him she knew all about him, would she be afraid?

Afraid or not, she had to stop them. Even as she loved Mr. Thornton still, he could not go on. She had to save him if she could.

Margaret knew she would never find out if she could, if she didn't face them, sooner or later.

She read that a demon was derived from the very thing that destroyed them. Whether it be hate, vengeance, anger, gluttony, or pride, Margaret had to find out what it was that drove Mr. Bell to be what he was.

_**A demon can only be killed by a being that possesses the same powers or a human that wields courage with pure goodness**__._

Margaret only hoped that she was worthy of such a challenge.

*Curiosity is the lust of the mind. –Thomas Hobbes


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: What?! Two chapters in one day? What is this madness? Anyways, we're getting closer. So close I'm sure you can taste it. Please review and as always enjoy!**

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 14

Margaret had left the funeral alone. After she received the well wishes from people she barely knew in solemn silence, she walked back to Crampton. She had told Dixon to go on ahead to prepare tea and a fire. Dixon reluctantly left her mistresses side but she recognized the stern expression that she had forgotten would appear on the Mrs. Hale's brow when she was determined. So she went.

As Margaret walked along the cold bustling streets her mind was on one thing: they were not there.

She had expected at least Mr. Thornton to show up at his tutor's funeral, even though they had broken off any appointments once Mr. Hale became ill, she still would have thought he had cared for her father. But she supposed he didn't want to see either of them with their last meeting.

At least a month had gone by since that day and her father's health had greatly declined, until he had no strength left. Margaret was at least thankful that she could tell her father that Fred was safely back in Spain with Edith. That must have been what he was holding on to, news that his son was safe. Margaret tried to feel thankful that her brother and cousin were out of harm's way, but with the passing of her father, she felt quite alone now.

Still, neither Mr. Thornton nor Mr. Bell had made an appearance. Especially since Fanny Thornton and Mrs. Thornton had shown, she wondered what he was doing this day to keep him from a friend's funeral. It made her quite uneasy. For at least proprieties sake and to keep up appearances, she thought it suspicious that they would not show their last respects, if there were any on there part.

As Margaret arrived to Crampton she shut the door securely behind her and took off her black coat and bonnet. She stopped herself for a moment from going through the motions of calling out to her father that she was home. The empty weight in her chest made her most recent loss feel more acutely in this moment.

Margaret spent the rest of the afternoon reading over more books that Christopher had let her check out from the library. Margaret was thankful that he did not question her keen curiosity into the occult. Margaret became fascinated with the information and how it almost exactly matched that of the events in Milton. As little as she knew of demons and evil spirits she found herself more aware of her surroundings and the feeling that there was a spell cast over the town and its people. Margaret didn't know how to explain it to herself, much less to her skittish maid.

Dixon was worried for her mistress. She had seen the books that Margaret was reading and worried that she would drive herself to insanity with the recent loss of her father. She knew no good would come from reading such nonsense and such tales of evil. She crossed herself every time she thought of the young Miss Hale dabbling into these matters. What was she trying to learn? And what was she hoping to achieve? It reminded Dixon of so many years ago when the young Miss Beresford had such curiosities, but that was long ago and she left that all behind when she married Mr. Hale.

Dixon had brought in Margaret's tea and was distressed that she didn't seem to notice there was a whole world around her. Dixon was becoming fearful that the young miss was amercing herself in these books to escape the reality of the situation she was in and her father's death. If Dixon only knew how aware Margaret was as to what was happening around her, she would have been rightfully more scared and fearful at what was really happening around them.

Margaret wasn't sure how much time had passed but when Bessie Higgins arrived at Crampton that night, Margaret was honestly surprised.

"Bessie?" Margaret frowned as she saw her friend standing in the doorway of the sitting room.

"How are you, Margaret?" Bessie asked, not moving from the door way.

Margaret was going to reply that she was well. But she wasn't. Deep down they both knew that would be a lie. Margaret tried to blink away the tear that threatened to fall, but the trembling of her chin alerted Bessie to go to her friend. She wrapped her arms around Margaret.

"Oh Margaret, I'm so sorry." Bessie held her friend as she kneeled on the floor next to Margaret's chair.

"I have no one now, Bessie. I am utterly alone in this place." Margaret trembled as she let her friend hold her from falling in a heap.

"You may feel so, but you have friends amongst you." Bessie reassured her.

"I'm not so sure how many of those friends I have left, save for you of course. Thank you for coming to see me." Margaret didn't realize until now how much she needed to confide in someone. With Fanny being the sister of her possible enemy and Dixon with her superstitious mind, Bessie was the only one she could turn to.

"I'm sorry I wasn't at the funeral, I wasn't feeling well this morning. My father wanted to be there too, but he was busy with Thornton as usual."Bessie said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Margaret's interest piqued.

"What was he helping him with?"She asked, unashamed that she was prying.

Bessie gave Margaret an unsure look as if to say _what's it to you?_

"I only ask because Mr. Thornton was not there either."Margaret assured her.

Bessie seemed to accept this and told Margaret, "He was assisting Mr. Thornton and Mr. Bell for Bell's departure."

"Departure? Where is he going?" Something in Margaret panicked.

"Really Margaret, my father doesn't tell me everything. How I am to know?" Bessie said annoyed.

"Bessie, I need to know where Mr. Bell is going. If I don't, someone very dear to me may be in danger." Margaret clapped her hands together to keep from shaking.

"Who would that be?"Bessie asked with a short huff that could have been mistaken for a laugh.

"My brother."

"You never said you had a brother." By the look on Bessie's face, Margaret could tell that regardless of what she might say, Bessie would believe her.

"I wasn't allowed to say. But please believe me that if I do not find out Mr. Bell's plans he could be in grave danger."

"Margaret, you cannot expect me to betray my father and his confidence with Mr. Thornton. You'll have to do a better job in telling me the truth and trusting me as your friend." Bessie strode past Margaret to leave.

"No Bessie, please. I do trust you. Please I will tell you, it doesn't sound like we have very much time." Margaret pleaded.

"I'm listening." Bessie crossed her arms over her chest.

Margaret told Bessie only what was important. If she wanted details she could have them after she knew Fred and Edith were safe. "I do have a brother. He was in the Navy when he got into some trouble with the law. He has been hiding for these past years in Spain. The only other living person that knows about him other then my cousin and Dixon is Mr. Bell. I am sure that Mr. Bell is doing everything in his power to keep us apart. I don't know why but he knows Fred was recently in Milton. I think he suspects that we are on to him. Please, Bessie I have to know what his plans are."

"Margaret, whatever you think you are doing you know nothing of what kind of man Mr. Bell really is. He is evil."

"I know that Bessie. That is why I am trying to keep Fred out of this."

"I cannot understand you Margaret, do you really think you can stand against the likes of Mr. Bell?"

"I have to try, for years he has haunted me. I thought I could forget him. But since we have come to Milton he has reminded me that he is not so easily forgetful. Whatever he has planned for me, I will not let him get to Fred."

Bessie looked at Margaret as if seeing her for the first time. She could talk brave, that's for sure, but Bessie believed her when she said she would stand against Mr. Bell. She didn't know how far she would get, but she was going to make damned sure that she wasn't alone in this.

"I will find out for you Margaret. I will try my best for you and your brother."

"Thank you Bessie."Margaret sighed in relief.

"In the mean time, what are you going to do?"

"I have been preparing myself." Margaret gestured to the stacks of books on the table.

Bessie raised her eyebrow, "I bit of light reading I suppose will do anyone some good. But Margaret nothing will prepare you for this. Are you sure you know what is happening?"

"I know all about Mr. Bell." Margaret said surely.

"And Mr. Thornton? What of him?" Bessie and anyone else for that matter could plainly see the connection the Margaret and Thornton had. She worried that her friend would let her heart get in the way of what was important.

"Him as well." Margaret only hoped that her intuition was right about Mr. Thornton, that he was just as fearful of Mr. Bell as she was. They were both a pawn in his game. If he was under the power of Mr. Bell, could she still forgive him for his dealings with the Boucher's? Were there others that had fallen victim to Mr. Bell's commands? Had Thornton killed others for Mr. Bell?

Bessie started to leave but before she left the front door she turned to Margaret unsure of what she was trying to say, "I want you to know Margaret, that my father, he's not like them. He's just caught up in it is all. He would never hurt anyone."

"I know, Bessie." Margaret wondered if Bessie or her father knew how many fell to the demon's schemes and how many more victims they planned to take.

"I will be back before tomorrow, Margaret." Margaret watched as Bessie left. Now all she could do was to wait for her friend to return.

As Margaret waited she wrote a letter to Fred to warn him and Edith that Mr. Bell may be well on his way and to take precautions. She tried to waste time until Bessie returned. It was too late in the night to send off her letter. She would have to be patient until she heard more from Bessie. Dear, dear Bessie who seemed to be with Margaret in this unusual situation. She was grateful that there at least was someone else who knew what was going on.

* * *

The clock in the hall chimed away the hours…

_3 o'clock…_

_5 o'clock…_

_7 o'clock…_

Time passed, and soon the dawn broke over the horizon. But Margaret had not slept. Instead she paced back and forth in her father's study waiting for Bessie's return.

_It shouldn't have taken this long. What if something happened to her?_

Margaret's worry that she had sent her friend to her death, pushed her to go out and see that she was alright. Margaret didn't bother with her coat, still in her mourning attire she went to the Higgins's home to find it empty. Empty of both inhabitants and belongings. It was like no one had ever lived there, all traces of them gone. Instead of worry Margaret felt rage course through her. The only explanation was what drove her to Marlborough Mills.

She was tired of it all. Little by little Mr. Bell was taking her life away. Her family, her friends, her sanity were all in the palm of his hand. With as much knowledge that she had acquired about his kind, she found him frustratingly always two steps ahead of her. She would have no more.

She walked across the courtyard, through the busy workmen and their tasks to the Thornton's front door. She raised her fist and pounded on the door.

"Thornton, come out!"

She pounded on the door again until her hand pulsed with every beat of her heart.

"I know what you've done, come out now!"

She raised her hand again and stopped midair as the door swung open.

"Miss Hale, what do you think you are doing?" Mrs. Thornton asked with a rage that almost matched Margaret's, almost.

"Where is your son?" Margaret narrowed her eyes.

"Where he usually is at this time, Miss Hale," She answered calmly, "He is at work in his mill."

By now the hands had noticed Margaret and watched as she descended the stairs. They parted to let her through to the mill doors. No one dared stop her. Her fury matched the anger and rage of the mob that she not so long ago stopped from harming the one she sought after now.

Margaret opened the mill door without knocking, she was passed politeness now. She searched for him through misty eyes, she would not cry now, not when she needed to be strong. She saw him through the white fluff that danced through the air, the hum of the machines working the cotton filtered through the pounding of her blood as it rushed through her ears. No one noticed her entrance, _he_ didn't notice her entrance. She moved closer as he walked down the aisle surveying his men. Proud, stern, hands behind his back, he walked proudly.

"Thornton!" She yelled across the noise of the machines, taking the attention of the workers from the looms onto her. Mr. Thornton saw her as she strode toward him, bits of white sticking to her hair as she walked through across the mill floor. She kept his gaze determinedly.

"Where are they?" She said only to him, but the harshness in her voice told Mr. Thornton that she would raise it if she felt she needed to.

He stood straighter before her, unwilling to let her show him up in front of his entire mill, "Where is who, Miss Hale?"

"You know damn well who. Bessie Higgins and her father. Or have you done away with them just like the Boucher's?" She nearly spat at him.

He grabbed her forcefully by her arm and all but dragged her across the mill to his office. Without a word she let him take her wherever he wanted. It wasn't like he could do anything to her, with his whole mill watching.

Once they were in his office and he slammed the door behind him he threw her in a chair in front of his desk.

"How dare you, Miss Hale…" He almost growled as he gripped the chair arms, trapping her, the white of his knuckles turning red with the force of his hold. Margaret thought he'd break the chair at the rate he was going.

"How dare I?" She laughed. "That's rich coming from a murderer."

He flinched as if she had struck him across the face, he let go of the chair to circle behind her. He ran his hand over his face.

"Where are they?" She persisted.

His silence was as good as a confession to her.

"Is there no end to Mr. Bell's command over you? Do you both plan on killing everyone I care about?!" She stayed seated in the chair, afraid that if she moved he would just put her back.

"You do not understand Miss Hale." He said with his back to her.

"Make me understand. Tell me what Mr. Bell wants from me so I can better fight him."

"No!" He turned and resumed his position with his hands on either side of her, keeping her in place so she had no choice but to look at him. "You will not stand against him, you cannot."

"Why not? I will protect myself if I must and I will destroy him if I can."

"You can't!" He bellowed.

She inched forward in her chair so he had no choice either but to look directly into her eyes.

"I will find a way." She said without blinking.

"Do you even know…" He started.

"That he is evil, a demon, not a mortal man? Yes, I know very well what he is. What are you Mr. Thornton?" She watched as his hold around her faltered and she could see behind his eyes, his façade crumbling. She felt a twinge of sorrow and sympathy for him.

She said in a softer tone, "Tell me you are not like him."

He looked at her again so neither of them would doubt that was said to each other today, in this room, "I cannot tell you that Miss Hale. It would be a lie."

She visibly sunk in the chair. She was hoping for some kind of chance that he could be saved from Mr. Bell and the evils that he was inflicting. She was wrong, but it wouldn't be the first time, or the last.

"What did you do with them?" She asked again.

"Do you think I would tell you, that I would betray Mr. Bell? If you truly know what Mr. Bell is, then you will know that no one goes against him and lives. So, I'm asking you, to please, stay away from him."

"No. I have to protect myself and those I love."

He knew since her father was dead, an event that greatly distressed him, that the only other person she would be speaking of, was Mr. Lennox.

"Mr. Bell has no intention of harming anyone, of that I can assure you Miss Hale."

"Where is Mr. Bell?"

"That is not your concern."He persisted. He didn't care if Mr. Bell had any idea to get rid of Lennox. He was sure that such news wouldn't be at all unpleasant to him.

Without her being able to stop herself Margaret burst into tears, half with rage and half with the fear that her brother would die because of her.

"Mr. Thornton please, he will kill my brother if you do not tell me!" She sobbed into her hands.

"Your brother?" _Was this another lie? What of Lennox?_

"Mr. Bell is the only other one that knows where he is. He means to keep us apart. I must find him and stop him!" She sat up and tried to push Mr. Thornton's arms away from her. But she might as well have tried to move a mountain, he would not falter. "Please, let me go to him!"

"I cannot let you go Miss Hale." He crouched in front of her, his face relaxing into what Margaret could see was confusion and sympathy.

"Then tell me where he is or where is going so I can warn Fred!" She grabbed both of his arms to lean closer to him. For a brief moment she thought he smelled of flowers, the kind grown in Helstone.

"He didn't tell me." He wished he knew, he would have told her if he knew where his master was.

Margaret hung her head in defeat. How was she to stop him from hurting what was left of her family? He was everywhere while she was stuck in one place, not able to help those who needed her now. Fred, Edith, and Bessie, she had let them down.

"Margaret, you must leave Milton. While you have a chance and Mr. Bell is gone, you have a chance to run." He said frantically as time was against them. He didn't think about the consequences of what would happen when Mr. Bell came back to find Margaret gone. He had left her under Thornton's watch, he knew he was being tested, and he would fail miserably.

"I will not leave my brother alone in this." She said through muffled tears.

Mr. Thornton didn't know what to do, for the second time in his life he felt trapped once again because of Mr. Bell he was at his mercy, and now Margaret was too.

"Then stay with me. I will look after you. I will help you and your brother, protect you from Mr. Bell."

"Why?" Margaret asked. If he was in such danger as he said he was, why would he risk himself?

"I told you once Margaret that I loved you. Did you doubt me?" He furrowed his brows, remembering that day. How many times had he tried to forget it?

She shook her head.

"I know that I have no hope that you would feel the same, but I promise…" He was stopped.

The hands that were on his arms came to his face, Margaret held him in front of her as she looked deeper into him. With one thumb she caressed the line on one side of his mouth. She stared intently at his lips as if contemplating something. Mr. Thornton shuddered as he gulped for air, the parting of his lips deciding for Margaret what she would do. She slid closer to him, her knees between his bent legs. She closed her eyes as she guided his face towards her.

It was mere seconds that this passed but to both Margaret and Mr. Thornton it felt like everything that had happened, from Margaret's arrival into Milton and everything in between, his sorrows, jealousy and doubt of Margaret's feelings had led up to this point. The distance between their lips was closed as they tasted each other for the first time. At first it was the fainted of touches, chaste and simple. But one taste and that was all it took.

Margaret's arms were around his shoulders without any persuading from him, and his hands seemed to be everywhere, never in one place for more than a few seconds. He drank her like a man searching for water in the desert. His hand brought her lips closer to him as he cradled the back of her head, running his fingers through her auburn hair. Margaret gasped as she searched for more, more of his kisses, his touch, more of him.

Their lips sought out more from each other, their movements becoming desperate as they clamored to be closer. Mr. Thornton reluctantly pulled from her. Margaret fell forward at the emptiness she felt, his warmth gone from her. They fought for breathe as he led her from her seated position bringing her up to him so their bodies could touch. Margaret could see the look in his eyes as that of an animal's, feral with hunger, and she was the prey. She was all too willing to give into him.

Before they could continue their tasting of each other, Margaret pulled back as realization hit her. She was still in danger in his presence. He was a murderer and he said he like Mr. Bell, but she wouldn't believe that he was the same kind of man. Yes, they loved each other, but they could never give into one another while he was still under the control of Mr. Bell and she was still in danger of him.

"Margaret, what is it?" He asked still holding her close to him as a panted with need of her lips on his again.

"I must go." She ripped herself from his embrace, a little too harshly she realized, and she sought to assure him that she did not regret this. "I need to make sure my brother is safe."

"I will do what I can to help you." Mr. Thornton told her.

"Please, let me know when Bell returns. I have a letter to send to my brother, just in case. I just hope I am not too late." Margaret opened his office door, letting a much needed chill enter the room.

"Margaret, wait!" Mr. Thornton called to her. Margaret turned to find herself staring up at him again, his closeness a comfort to her.

"I must tell you, this one thing you must know. I didn't kill Boucher, or Bessie and Nicholas." He sighed like a great weight was lifted from him.

"Then why did you let me believe that you had?" She was mortified that she had believed his heinous lies. _Of course she knew all along he was innocent!_

"That day, that day you seemed to want to believe it so badly that I thought if I told you, you would deny it anyways. When you seemed to be so easily persuaded, I knew that you must despise me. I knew then I didn't deserve your love. I let you believe the lie."He admitted to her finally.

"I never believed you, at least not with this. Where are they then?"

"They are safe for now. I hid them from Bell. He believes they are taken care of and I'd like to keep it that way. My only regret is that I cannot do the same for you and your brother."

Neither knew what to say to each other. A mutual understanding of feelings had transpired between them but both knew it was too dangerous to voice anything, not until all was settled and they were all safe from Mr. Bell.

Margaret reluctantly left Mr. Thornton to mail her letter to Fred and to wait impatiently for news of Mr. Bell. Margaret was relieved that the Boucher's, Bessie and Higgins were safe.

As Margaret left the mill yard, she realized she had someone else to trust and confide in, the man she loved.


	15. Chapter 15

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 15

Mr. Thornton could scarcely breathe as the door shut behind Margaret.

_What had he done?_

By pursuing his passion for her he had put her in even more danger. Elation filled him at the thought that such a creature cared for him, loved him even. Unsaid words gave way to doubt but he would never doubt the way her arms kept him close to her so that he could feel her heart beat wildly and her insistent hands that pleaded more from his lips. It was much too hot in his office.

_What had he done?_

He repeated to himself. If Bell ever found out, he would waste no time in taking Margaret for his own. And he knew he would find out, some way or another Mr. Bell would figure out the passions that had formed between the two of them. He knew why her godfather wanted her so badly, but he could not tell her. That was something Margaret would have to figure out on her own.

He told her he would help her keep her brother safe. _Her brother_. Had he known of a brother he might have been spared with the agony that Margaret's heart was elsewhere. _She never loved Lennox_, he mused to himself. Mr. Bell had played him for a fool. And he took the bait. He would not be so undone again, not with Margaret's love for him known.

But she knew at least that he was not a murderer. That at least was enough for him today. He needed to see her. Even as her presence still lingered in his office, he needed her. To see her and now to be able to touch her was not enough for him. He wanted all of her. There were still many things left unsaid between them that needed to be discovered. She deserved to know from him what exactly his part was in all of this.

The mill would let out soon, and then he could go to her. Yes, even with all that was happening around them, Mr. Thornton had to keep up this facade of playing the harsh mill owner. It's worked so far for him and his family, but he could feel it start to crumble away with every moment he and Margaret were together. He knew she would be his undoing, but would her love save him or damn him into this life forever?

He left the mill in the capable hands as he went home to his mother who was surely wondering what was in Margaret's mind coming to their home demanding to see him. He quirked a smile at the thought of Margaret's demanding nature, never one to back down from fear. She had proven to be quite the adversary to Mr. Bell as he had witnessed his master's ire at the young woman's tenaciousness. _How could he not love her?_

Mr. Thornton had barely stepped over the threshold of his home when his mother was before him demanding him to tell her what had happened.

"John, what is that Miss Hale up to?" She was just about to go down to the mill herself until she saw Margaret leave her son's office. When he hadn't immediately left after her she became worried. Worried for what, she wasn't certain. But Mrs. Thornton knew the moment she clapped eyes on the girl from the South that she would be trouble. And what trouble she was.

"Nothing out of the ordinary for her, mother." John smiled internally.

"Well I thought as much. No one could guess what that girl would do next, but what had she to say? She seemed very adamant that you had done wrong. Does she know?"

"She knows enough to understand the situation." _And enough to finally reveal her feelings_, he thought triumphantly.

"What will she do?" Mrs. Thornton hoped beyond hope that this would send her away from Milton. She would finally be rid of Miss Hale.

_What will she do?_ He asked himself. He didn't know what was in Margaret's head. She had said to him that she wanted to face Bell, but he could never allow that. Not that she would stand by while her brother was in danger. But he wouldn't let her put herself in harm's way, no matter who she was protecting.

Disregarding his mothers question he said, "I must see her." Just as quickly as he entered the room he turned to leave again. He stopped when his mother grabbed his arm, making him turn and face her.

"You still love her?" She asked incredulously. The look he gave her as he tried to avoid her eyes gave her answer. "I thought you had left that behind. Do you not see that it would be better to just let her go?"

"She will not leave Milton."

"Why ever not? You said she knew, why would she stay?" She turned in frustration from her son. "What would keep her here?" She asked herself.

After a moment of silence Mr. Thornton voiced to the wall, knowing his mother would not accept what he was going to say regardless if she was looking right at him, "I told her I loved her and that I would protect her for as long as she needed me, her and her brother."

Mrs. Thornton turned to him so they were face to face, a space between them. "Her brother?"

He nodded, "She confessed to love me as well."

Confusion and disbelief clouded his mother's face. "And you believed her?"

Had his mother no thought that anyone could care for him in such a way? Did she think even him past the point of deserving of such a love? With his silence came his doubts. He realized they never said what at least he knew he felt for her. _God, he loved her_. Would he be so wrong to feel that Margaret felt the same even without so many words? Did it need to be spoken for it to be true?

"You told her everything?" Mrs. Thornton pressed.

"I had planned to tell her all about how we came into Bell's power. She knows what he is, just not what I am." He feared, and not for the first time, that telling her the truth would put him out of her heart for good. Now that he had it, could he risk it? He had to, for Margaret he would bear his soul, what was left of it anyways. She deserved to know.

He left the room without waiting for any sort of disapproval from her. He already had so many doubts fighting for dominance in his mind he didn't need any more to deal with.

"John!" She called to him.

His hand was on the door when he paused to look at his mother's worried face.

"If she still claims to love you, after all is said and done, then I fear I will have to accept her." She confessed.

"If she still loves me, then I fear she will be our undoing." He told her grimly.

* * *

Margaret could hardly keep herself from touching her fingers to her lips. They still trembled with the memory of Mr. Thornton's lips on hers. She never thought any such act would affect her so, let alone by Mr. Thornton's doing. Though the words were unspoken for now, they both knew they loved each other. _How could she ever think that he was like Mr. Bell?_

His confession that he was not the man she wanted him to be gave her pause, but not enough to fear him as she thought she once did. _Maybe she could help him too?_ They could help each other out of the clutches of her godfather.

After she had delivered her letter to Fred to warn him of the possible appearance of Mr. Bell in Spain, she waited. She knew he would come. After what they had shared in his office she knew that now they would not be able to stay away from each other for long. She laughed with the knowledge that their acquaintance before was strained due to the fact that they did not trust one another. But now, now it was completely different. Her heart leapt within her at the thought of seeing him again and that they were both on the same side.

Margaret sent Dixon on a lengthy errand hoping that Mr. Thornton would come when the maid was gone. She didn't have to wait long before a knock sounded on the door.

She gracefully swept down the stairs to let him in. When she latched onto the door handle and let the light in from the afternoon, hazy as it was due to the stormy weather, she sighed in relief seeing his dark outline in the frame. He took off his hat as he looked at her for the second time that day, but feeling as if he hadn't seen her for years. She was flushed, her pale skin and dark hair a contrast from one another. The pink fullness of her lips sprung memories on him of how they felt like on his.

He came through the door as she moved aside to let him in. As soon as she shut the door, enveloping them in darkness, the need to touch one another was too much. Margaret took his hat from his fumbling hands to place it on the table. Once his hands were free she took them in her own, at first to admire, then to kiss. His sharp intake of breathe echoed in the small entry way. The way he was responding to her touch didn't escape her notice and she smiled shyly that she could induce such a reaction.

"Margaret, look at me." His husky voice sounded even lower than usual and it made Margaret shiver.

When she did, she could see the storm that was clouding his mind. She could sense the desire radiating off of him, but there was something else too.

"What's wrong?" She asked weakly.

He hesitated as he was about to kiss her, but the way she could so easily read him was unnerving.

"Are we alone?" He asked in a whisper.

She tried not to smile, but if it wasn't for the wickedness of their actions and behavior the task was impossible.

"Dixon is out for the day." The promise that they would be undisturbed for much of the afternoon made her stomach clench in a not unpleasant way. She was breathless before him, yet she wondered why they were avoiding doing what she knew they both wanted.

"We should talk." He told her seriously.

_Yes, of course_. Margaret felt embarrassed to seem so wanton, but could she blame herself? For months she had suppressed her feelings for the man before her. Now to have him in front of her and to act so coyly was driving her mad. She wondered where this passion came from. Without a word, she led him to the sitting room.

Once they were seated side by side, she noticed how nervous he seemed. The cloud that was forming in his mind spread like a wild fire through his limbs. She tried to steady him by placing her hand on his. He seemed comforted by her reassuring touch but his mannerisms were having the same affect on her. Why was he so nervous?

"Margaret, there are some things that you must know before we continue on." He stammered. They had only begun and yet he was preparing them for the end.

"Continue on?" She asked, not sure what he meant. Continue on living? Continue on loving each other? Continue on fighting Mr. Bell? How could they continue on any of those things when they had just begun? She decided to stop fretting over it in her mind and let him speak his mind.

"Go on." She encouraged.

Before he started, he stood up to gain his bearings. How should he start? When should he start? It seemed like so long ago when everything happened that he couldn't be sure how things had transpired as they had. She knew at least what Mr. Bell was, so that won't come as a shock.

"You remember what Fanny told you about our father?" He prompted.

'Yes, of course." How could she forget that day, or any day since? She had come to know so much about him and yet not enough. Was he confessing himself now?

"After my father…passed, we were brought so low that I didn't think we would live to see another day. Fanny was just a baby, but I was old enough to understand the situation we were in, nay the danger that we were in. I sought for work while mother cared for Fanny and I. But it was never enough. Day by day we barely made it. I had just reached boyhood when we were at the lowest. And then, we met Mr. Bell. He was kind to mother and offered us help with seemingly no ulterior motive then to help a poor starving family. After our friends had abandoned us, we took the kindness with no questions asked.

"We realized too late what his motives really were. He gave me a position. It wasn't much, but I earned enough as a shop boy to keep food on the table and a roof over my family's head. When I became of age I was sent to him. He sent for me out of the blue. He usually left us alone, sending us funds here and there with inquiries as to how we were fairing. Mr. Bell had offered me a place under his wing. I couldn't believe he wanted me to work for him, to run a mill on one of his estates.

"I took it with no question. I studied under him and learned the ways of a business man, shaping me into the master I am today. It was soon after that I slowly realized his kindness would come with a price. At first, it was menial things he asked me to do: shipping unknown cargo from one place to another, meeting with a strange correspondence to exchange messages. But soon, his commands and desires turned dark and I learned what kind of a man he really was. The moment I knew what I had gotten my family into, was when he asked me to bring him someone.

"To this day I do not know what became of him. He disappeared, vanished out of thin air. And I fear that I had brought him to his death. I tried to break ties with him once before, but he informed me that it would be impossible for me to escape him. In a word, I belonged to him now. You say you know what he is?"

The question directed at her broke her from her trance in his story. She nodded, unsure if she really heard the question at all.

"Then you will know that he is a demon taking shape in the form of a man. But what you may not know, Margaret is that I am one too."

Margaret's blood ran cold. _How was this possible?_

He seemed to read her thoughts as he answered, "By me willingly giving my services and loyalty to him, my soul was his. There was no contract, no exchange of vows or blood. It was as simple as me doing his bidding that put the chains around me forever."

Margaret for once didn't know what to think or say. Her whole world and her hope that was wrapped around this one man came tumbling down. _Or was it as bad as all that?_

He was a demon, but one that was controlled by another. He hadn't physically done harm to anyone. He simply had to do as he was bid. The agony she felt for him threatened to spill forth from her eyes. How lonely and isolated he must have felt all those years.

The silence gave her a moment to collect these thoughts, but Mr. Thornton took them as Margaret's feelings for him quickly fading away. He knew he would lose her. He wished in this moment, for once, that he didn't feel the need to do the right thing all the damn time. If it would give him Margaret, he would live with the lie. But subjecting her to a life like his would crush them both in the end.

"Please say something." He pleaded.

"I…don't know what to say. I fear there is too much too say at once that I won't be able to stop." She said as her gaze deadpanned towards him.

"Anything, anything would be better than this torture of your silence." He came to kneel before her and held her warm hands in his cold ones. He was relieved when she didn't pull away in disgust or fear.

She could see the fear of rejection in his eyes and hated herself for being the one to put it there. She sought to dispel the notion quickly.

"This changes nothing. Did you not believe _me_ when I said I loved you?"

"You never said it."

"Did I not? If words will sooth and convince you then I love you Mr. Thornton. I love you with or without a soul. Although I believe no man can give away such a precious gift, I love you regardless. This might offend Mr. Bell, but he has no hold over this." She placed her hand over his heart. And he thought he must have a soul for he feared his heart would burst from his chest to join with hers at her earnest declaration.

"My mother told me she feared you loving me as I am, then she would really have to accept you."

She laughed heartily, and it seemed foreign to both their ears after the story he just told her. "Mr. Thornton, in a time like this and you bring up your mother."

He smiled at the ridiculousness of it. He could smile now that he had the love of Margaret Hale, regardless of his connection to Mr. Bell and what that entailed for his life.

Finally, they kissed. Before it was frantic and new, neither knowing what they were doing or reaching towards. Now they kissed as old lovers, softly but fervently. Margaret mused that once again he was kneeled before her, her chuckle broke them apart.

"What could possibly be so funny?" He asked trying not to smirk at her.

"Why are you always kneeled before me when we are together like this?"

"I would be glad to kneel if it meant I could kiss you over and over again." He pulled her closer so his mouth was right by her ear. He whispered to her, as if they were not the only ones in the room. "But maybe soon we will try other variations of who is above and who is below when we embrace."

Margaret gasped when she understood his straightforward meaning. _So she wasn't the only one to feel in such a way._ The clench in her stomach returned but she no longer felt ashamed of it. She knew they loved each other and they wanted each other.

"Have I shocked you?" He asked as she gave no reply.

"On the contrary, I was thinking how relieved I was that our passions would not be one sided." She told him as she leant forward for another kiss.

In the midst of another bout of kissing, Mr. Thornton remembered a thought he had and meant to ask Margaret on it.

"Margaret, why did your father never speak of a brother?" He brushed back her hair from her eyes hoping he would not upset her by mentioning either of her departed father and lost brother.

"He was in trouble with the law while commissioned in the Navy. He had been hiding for some time. He came to visit me before father passed."

Something dawned on him. "Were you seen together by Mr. Bell at the train station?"

"Yes, I was. He and Edith had left together. I told them to go. Did he tell you?"

"I fear Mr. Bell suspected my feelings for you more then I knew. He tried to play with my emotions and used them against me, against you."

"But how? What did he tell you?"

"He told me he saw you with Lennox." Mr. Thornton was now seated by her on the couch but their hands never ceased to touch each other.

"Henry Lennox! What a notion." She snorted and huffed with the thought of her and Lennox.

"So you do not care for him?" He asked with a little hope.

"I will admit to you, we were engaged for awhile and I thought I must have loved him. But he did not care for me when he found out I would have no money."

"What a fool." He sneered.

Margaret didn't know if he meant that he thought Lennox the fool or herself, either way she thought it was deserved.

"You know, it was my brother that confirmed my suspicions about Mr. Bell." She wanted to change the subject not wanting to talk of Henry any more.

"Really? How did he come to that conclusion?" Mr. Thornton was surprised that an idea would come so quickly.

"That was the reason Fred had been involved in the mutiny. He said the captain was a demon."

"How is that possible?"He squeezed Margaret's hand in alarm.

His urgency didn't escape her notice. "What do you mean?"

"Margaret, only demons can see other demons. How could your brother know or even suspect what he was?"

"I suspected it of Mr. Bell and even you, it can't be that farfetched." She reasoned.

It dawned on Mr. Thornton then, why Mr. Bell wanted Margaret and her brother so badly. _How could he not have realized?_

"Did your father ever mention anything about Mr. Bell, about what he was?"

"No of course not, they were friends. My father always spoke highly of him."

"What about your mother?" He stood again, rubbing his hand over his mouth in thought.

"No, never. John, what are you going on about?"

It didn't escape his notice that she had called him by his first name. It surprised him how easy it had happened, like they had been courting for months. In their situation there was no time for the proper way of things. They both fell fast and hard and accepted it just as easily.

"There is a reason why Mr. Bell wants you and your brother, Margaret. He never told me straight out but he said that you two together, would bring him everything he ever wanted."

"He wants us together? I thought he was trying to keep us apart."

"So did I. Now I'm not so sure."

**A/N: I love cliffhangers. There is no way that I'm even going to hint at why Mr. Bell wants the Hale siblings together. But I would love to hear what you you guys think. Please read and review.**


	16. Chapter 16

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 16

_My Dearest Maggie,_

_I scarcely know what to write or where to start at least. There is so much to be said. Since receiving your letter, Edith and I have changed our location and our tactics. We have not sat idly by to leave you alone in Mr. Bell's schemes. Much has been discovered and I write to you now, regardless of the chance of being found, to tell you what has come about. And there is so much, Margaret. I didn't dare believe it myself. If it weren't for Edith by my side I don't know how I would have come through this discovery of monumental proportions. _

_First, let me assure you, we are on our guard. There has been no sign of Mr. Bell or indeed any peculiar faces to be weary of. That being said, we are holed up here where we are sure we will not be disturbed in our task. I know you must be anxious to learn of what I am so adamant to tell you. But oh Margaret! It is so unbelievable that I implore you read on with an open mind and trust Edith and I that we would not tell you this unless it was of great importance or that we thought it would benefit you against Mr. Bell._

_Now, where to start? Shortly after Edith and I had made ground back in Spain, we quickly made preparations for at least Edith to return to you with the aid of information and hopefully a group of supporters to stand by you. With mother and father dead, it makes this situation all the harder to bear, or indeed to even comprehend. The few friends of mother and father's I fear cannot be trusted, for most are colleagues of Mr. Bell. That being said, Aunt Shaw had been contacted and knows Edith's location. Aunt Shaw reluctantly sent us the documents of family and kin upon request of Edith. The involvement of Aunt Shaw and her reluctance to share the information asked for, will be touched upon once I tell you all, Margaret._

_Upon our effort and task of finding out more information of Mr. Bell and his true identity or should I say bodily inhabitant, I came across documents that would date Mr. Bell's existence on Earth back to the dark ages. I didn't believe it but with the additional information, documents, texts, and journals of many individuals living since that time, I am convinced now more than ever that Mr. Bell's demon is more than seven thousand years old. Which then begged the question, what is his purpose here on Earth if he is free from the confines of Hell?_

_Edith and I could only go so far as not all documents are able to be seen by just anyone without proper authorization or consent, and had to come to the conclusion that information on Mr. Bell's reasons for his actions and existence would have to come from him, and him alone, which is a dead end as far as I am concerned. Edith and I then switched tactics and looked for Mr. Bell's connections with the Hale family. You and I both know him as godfather, friend to mama and papa, but what shocked me the most and what I'm sure will cause you confusion, is Mr. Bell's acquaintance with mama long before she and papa were married, even before she met papa. I refused to believe it until documents of Mr. Bell presiding over grandmother's marriage to grandfather Beresford came to be in my possession._

_Mama was just a small girl when she met Mr. Bell, can you believe it Margaret? He had been in her life since then and only until mama married into the Hale family did he make himself scarce, until you were born, Margaret. Mr. Bell had been to your christening and as you and I surely remember was a constant presence in our lives up until we became teenagers. That is where I was at a loss. Why would Mr. Bell leave mama as soon as she married only to come back as soon as you were born? I searched and searched, Margaret, until I found the answer. Having it confirmed by Aunt Shaw, I thought it time to finally write to you so you would know why Mr. Bell haunts your every move, why he is always there lurking in the shadow and why, Margaret he has tried to keep the truth from you all these years, even going as far as to silence mama and Aunt Shaw. I dare say papa never even knew, poor man, to think he was cast out from the secret of the Beresford family. I think it would have even been kept from me if you were allowed to know, Margaret._

_When I wrote to Aunt Shaw of my suspicions she wrote me back. I have attached the letter for you, Margaret. Before you read it, I implore you to take this as a good omen, and not a bad one. The discovery of this piece of your life might very well be the thing that saves you and maybe even others. Farewell my sister, we will see each other again. _

_Good luck and love to you,_

_Fred and Edith_

_P.S. - If this Thornton man is anything like Edith assures me he is, confide in him and trust him with this. Evil or not, every man is worthy of trust and love, and I hope he will strive to be worthy of yours_.

Mr. Thornton's heart soared as he read Fred's words to Margaret. She obviously took her brother's advice as she had given him the letters to read for himself. Mr. Thornton turned over Fred's letter to read Margaret's aunt's letter, all the while he watched Margaret from the corner of his eye, watching the way she fidgeted and squirmed as she watched him read the letters. She had read them both countless times not sure what to make of them even with all the new information. Even he, himself was weary and anxious at what her Aunt had to say.

_Fred,_

_Tell Edith that I am quite vexed at her for leaving with you and for Margaret getting her involved in all this. That being said, I am glad you three are staying by each other. After all, family is all we have in the end. I fear with the news I will share with you that you will not think anything less of said family. The involvement and acquaintance of Mr. Bell with the Hales and Beresford's has no doubt sullied our good name, but who knows, maybe he can finally be put to an end and we will wipe our hands of his wickedness. _

_If you are still wondering, I am fully aware of what he is. Maria and I always knew, though our husbands and father did not. It was better that way. But since you are helping Margaret and Edith, make no mistake this involves Edith just as much as Margaret, I feel it is best you knew everything as well as the girls._

_We first met Bell when we were young girls. Our mama, your grandmother Mina, introduced him as our godfather, much the same way you and Margaret were. I refused to let Bell near Edith for reasons that will become apparent to you. We grew to love him as he spoiled us with attention and love, or what we thought must have been love. As we grew older it became clear that Bell had his eyes set for Maria. I detached myself from him and your mother; make no mistake it was not out of jealousy, but out of hate for him taking my sister from me. She did not love him and he knew it. He was determined for her hand._

_When Maria met Richard Hale, they became engaged almost immediately. We did not see Bell for years after that. Though Maria married to get away from Mr. Bell and did not love Richard at first, I know she grew to love him for what he offered her and eventually the love grew between them when you were born. Please make sure both you and Margaret are aware that your parents loved each other in the end. _

_We thought we were safe from Bell until of course Margaret was born. Maria and I were terrified that he would try again to marry his way into our family. The benefit of being godfather was not enough for him. He wanted our blood to strengthen his own vicious desires. The prospect of having offspring was what he really wanted. Why a demon would want children I have no idea, but then again nothing that man did ever made sense to us. We soon learned that any child born of the blood of a demon would be as hard or worse to keep from this world than that of an actual demon spawned from the devil. For the child would have powers beyond a normal demon, stronger and harder to kill. We did everything we could to keep him away from Margaret and Edith._

_He must have his eye on Margaret now, since she is bearing the brunt of his unwanted attention. We should have seen this coming. I fear that your parent's never suspected Mr. Bell would dare enter our lives again. The reason, my dear nephew, that Mr. Bell is so keen to bond our families in blood is that we in fact also have otherworldly powers. We are not demons like Mr. Bell, but come from a long line of ancient, ethereal and supernatural abilities. This is the reason Mr. Bell is obsessed with making Margaret his own, with or without her consent. By our family joining forces with a demon, will give him unspeakable powers, power that I fear will be too strong for anyone to fight against. The possibility of bringing a child into this world with the powers of the Beresford family and the powers of a demon would be unprecedented. That is why we cannot let Bell succeed in his plans for taking Margaret as his own._

_If he succeeds, I fear it will be the end of humanity as we know it. I cannot say more then to wish you all luck, and hope that Bell doesn't succeed. I am sorry I cannot involve myself even for my daughter's sake. I am old and weary and would surely succumb to Bell's powers if he were to set his sights on me. No, it is up to you three now to take care of him once and for all. Please tell Edith, I am sorry I kept this from her and to forgive me. Please be safe._

_Yours, _

_Aunt Shaw_

Mr. Thornton clenched his fists, crumbling the letters in his hands. He knew Bell was after Margaret for something, but to know he would take her by force for more power and the chance for much more powerful offspring was enough for him to curse his master back to where he came from. He felt guilty that he in some way aided Mr. Bell in finding Margaret and harassing her. It was much worse than that, he knew, they were all in more danger then any of them could comprehend. Bell would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He looked to Margaret who looked back at him with eagerness in her eyes.

"What does it mean? Is it as bad as I think it is?" Margaret asked him after he didn't say a word, but held a look of horrified realization on his features. It did not comfort her.

Mr. Thornton ran his hand over his face and looked at the letters again as if it would say something else and tell him all would be well, that things weren't as bad as he thought. He wanted to reassure Margaret that they would be alright, but he couldn't now, not with the blow of this news.

"It is worse than I thought." He admitted as he sat next to her. He let the letters fall to the floor and he grabbed Margaret's trembling hands in his.

"But what does it mean?" Margaret still wasn't sure what her aunt meant by saying that they came from a family with "abilities". It was all so shocking that Margaret didn't know what to make of it. That is why she gave the letters to John, to see what he could make of them. His reaction was not helping her to understand what her part was in all this and why her fate was so entwined with that of Mr. Bell.

"It means, Margaret," He was trying to stay calm, no use in getting angry when he needed to stay strong for the woman he loved, and whose future was held in the hands of a demon. "That Mr. Bell will stop at nothing to take you from me and your family. He wants power beyond measure and will get it at any means possible."

"I understand that. I confess I must have known that all along. But what does it mean for my family. What was my aunt saying?" Margaret could see the frustration building in the man before her, but she had to know and he would tell her.

"Your mother and aunt were Beresford's before they married." It wasn't a question but Margaret nodded anyways. "I have heard of the Beresford family before, long ago. I did not know that you were from the same line. I should have known if Mr. Bell was after you so badly. It has been known, to demons, that the powers of the Beresford's can be traced as far back as the dark ages. It was said that it was the first Beresford that created the first demon, giving the family line the ability to kill what they have created. If a demon were to ever mix blood with a Beresford, there would be no way to kill a child of the line. It would be the most powerful being to roam the Earth. And ultimately it would destroy life as we know it. The power of such a being is unstoppable. I suppose Bell thinks he can share in that power. He is an utter fool." Mr. Thornton furrowed his brow and pursed his lips in a hard line as he thought on the consequences of such a consummation.

"What am I?" Margaret wondered aloud.

"Only the line of Beresford women could wield such power. Over time you have been given many names. The one I suspect you will be most familiar with is "witch". You are a witch, Margaret. And come from a very ancient and powerful line of witches. Only you can kill a demon. Only you can end Mr. Bell."

Margaret couldn't comprehend anything he told her. The more she denounced it in her mind the more she realized it must be true. With everything that happened in her life, the mysteries, the lies, the confusion, all made sense now.

She was a witch.

Edith, her mother, her Aunt, her grandmother Mina, and all before her were witches.

Only she could destroy Bell or any other demon. She remembered that moment when she was just a young girl when she found Mr. Bell in her room with his blood on her doll, she realized then that Mr. Bell had intended to mix their blood early on so she would have no choice, she herself would become an all powerful demon. Since that was unsuccessful, she knew he planned to father her children. If she and John would ever have children, would it be the same? Would they live in fear that their child would grow to be an unstoppable demon, destined to destroy the world and life as they knew it. Or would their love for each other and their unborn children turn out differently? A thought, so terrifying and instant came to her. Her family would consider John an enemy, one that must be ended like all the others. She could never! She would never do that to him or any children they might have together. She would denounce her name if she were given the choice!

She held fast to his hands and he understood her inner turmoil as he too had the same thought. Not that she would kill him, but that they were sworn enemies since the beginning of her family and he supposed from whatever Mr. Bell had turned him into.

"I know." He assured her that he understood her.

"I would never hurt you, John." She looked at him to convince him she meant it. She decided to keep mum on the topic of the future of their possible children. There were more pressing matters to see to. Unknown to her, the same thoughts washed through John's mind. Pushing away any hope of a happy, uncomplicated future together, one without evil and supernatural phenomenon's coming into play.

"I believe you, Margaret. But this doesn't change the fact that we are sworn enemies, we are not supposed to be together. Loving each other is a danger to us both. But you especially since Mr. Bell will take you. He will kill me if he has to. He made me and he can unmake me." He told her solemnly. The weight of the world was on both their shoulders with everything to lose.

"I will kill him before he has the chance." Margaret snarled as she became fierce with the responsibility of keeping John safe and her unborn children. Maternal instincts were unknown to her until the thought of her and John's children coming into harm's way. She now knew how her own mother and aunt felt for their children when Mr. Bell posed a threat to them.

"Whether I am alive to see it or not, you will have to, Margaret. It is up to you to destroy him." He told her with regret in his faltering voice. How he wished he could do the job himself!

"We will do it together. If I have powers I will need to know how to use them. We will have to go to Aunt Shaw." Margaret hoped her Aunt Shaw would at least give her guidance. The thought of wielding powers such as she couldn't comprehend excited and bewildered her.

"I will not be going with you." Mr. Thornton's deep voice broke through her nerves all at once causing her to shiver.

"Why ever not?" Margaret furrowed her brows.

"We still do not know where Mr. Bell is. I will see you safely with your Aunt then I will go looking for him, make sure he isn't plotting anymore against us. I will do everything I can to keep him from taking you."

Margaret couldn't bear the thought of leaving him even for a moment. How could she leave him not knowing where Mr. Bell was? And he was suggesting going after him? She would not let him put himself in danger!

"You cannot go after him!" She held fast to him as if he would leave this instant.

"I will not wait for him to finish his schemes only to come after my family and you. Do you expect me to sit by while you are off doing your part?" His raised voice caused her ire to rise as they argued.

"That is not fair. You know I do not want that."She spoke just as haughtily towards him. "I do not like the idea of us being apart to further Mr. Bell's plans whatever they may be. Surely he will try and keep us apart no matter what."

"Which is why we should make that choice ourselves to show him we are not afraid. It will make him question himself. If we can keep him on his toes we will be the stronger ones."

They were silent for a moment, contemplating each other and both their stubbornness to not yield.

"I do not like it." Margaret said finally.

"Neither do I. But you know we must. It is the only way." He came towards her again, wrapping his arms around her. As she laid her head against his chest he wondered how he would ever be able to let her go now.

"Shall we keep in contact or should we risk the correspondence in case he is watching that too. I'm sure her knows where my Aunt is living." Margaret told him.

"I do not know. Maybe it would be best to keep everything we can from him until you are ready."

How could they do this? To be apart for God knows how long with no means of communication to indicate whether either was safe, how will they cope? Margaret wondered if demons and witches had some kind of power or ability to speak to one another even with a vast separation between them. Was there a way to exchange words without any being spoken or written?

"John, what if there was a way we could speak to each other and Mr. Bell would never know what was being said or that we were speaking at all?"

"What do you mean?" He asked with confusion.

Margaret wasn't sure what she really meant, but the feeling in her chest told her she was onto something, something she knew all along that lingered in the back of her mind. She searched for the key to unlock what was hidden from her. Was this how powers and spells worked? Were they kept in a box or categorized into a library of sorts, waiting to be used until she had the key or knew the way to what she was looking for? Was the information stored in her since birth waiting to be opened? The feeling within her grew as she reached and leaped towards what was pulling at her mind. She followed it like a rope was tied to her chest, pulling her towards the truth. She let her mind follow as her body stayed within reach of her demon lover.

All at once she felt the pulling stop and her mind settled like a storm had past, leaving in its wake the damage and destruction to pick up and put away.

"There is a way." She whispered.

"Margaret, are you well? You were gone for a moment." Mr. Thornton had sensed the change in her, he felt the electric surge course through as she stood still and unmoving her eyes on something far away.

"There is a way, John, a way that we can communicate without Mr. Bell ever knowing or suspecting!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Before my father died, I had a dream I was back in Helstone. And you were there with me. It felt so real and yet I knew I was dreaming, you said the strangest thing. You asked me if I was dreaming. And then you said that you thought _you_ had been dreaming."Margaret hoped he remembered and understood what she was saying.

"I remember. I thought it so odd that I knew what your home looked like yet I had never been there. When you asked me what I was doing in your dream, I confess I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. That often happens to me when you are in my thoughts." He smiled as she hugged him closer for his comment. "I should have realized that you had conjured me with your subconscious without you even realizing it. Margaret, do you realize what this means?"

She just stared at him with wide eyes.

"This means that you have already begun to use your powers. You have found a way to defend yourself against other demons. As you know they can read your every thought. It is quite traumatic, to have all your secret thoughts and memories seen by someone who would use them against you."

Margaret saw the change in John, like a cloud had passed over him. Some memory of something Mr. Bell had done to him come crashing back over him, threatening to drag him under.

"I will never use my powers to pry into your thoughts. I swear John, I didn't know I could do this."

"I know you wouldn't. And I don't mind you Margaret." He paused, thinking about his next words. "Just promise me you won't go searching for things until I share them with you first."

She only nodded and that was all he needed.

"Well. Then that settles it. At least we have found a way to stay in contact with one another."

"What if I cannot do it again?"

"Margaret, you did it in your sleep without even realizing it. You are more than capable of finding a way."

* * *

Margaret couldn't sleep. Since she and John had made preparations for her to go to her Aunt, she wondered over the secrets and the lies her family had been hiding. Did her father ever know who her mother really was? Did he suspect Mr. Bell of some mischief? If he did he never let on or let it show to his children. She wondered what Edith thought of all this. And Fred, what did that make him?

John had told her that only witches could see demons. Did that make Fred some kind of witch or something else? She tried to remember all these questions until she could ask her Aunt. She wished her mother were her to guide her through this. Did she die unbeknownst to her that Mr. Bell would eventually come for her daughter?

Margaret turned in her bed with frustration. The slight movement and rustling of the sheets caused John to shift in his sleep. He told her he would stay with her. Occupying the chair next to her bed, he slept with his hand in hers. She peered at him in the darkened room and wondered what he dreamt of. She feared and not for the first time that night that their separation would give Bell the chance to come between them. She wasn't sure whether Bell would hurt John to get to her but she would never allow it. He had refused her over and over again when she pleaded with him to come with her even though she knew it was the most sensible thing to do.

_Margaret was getting ready for bed as she brought it up again._

"_I cannot go with you Margaret."John had told her with a sigh._

"_Please, John I cannot leave you behind."_

"_We have already discussed this. What of my mother and Fanny? I will not leave them to themselves. Not when I don't know where Mr. Bell is hiding or what he is planning. I know, Margaret, he is planning something and I will not risk everything. I will not give him the chance."_

"_They can come with us."She pleaded._

"_And how would that look? You know how people regard us. For us to up and leave in the night would cause much suspicion. Then Mr. Bell would surely know we were onto him. The less he knows about what we know the better we will be. It is for the best Margaret. We will be apart for only a few months, if that. You have much to prepare for and I wish I can be there with you. But you know it must be this way."_

She did know. She knew it was foolish to run and hide with him. But could she blame herself for wanting to keep those dear to her in her sight? She had already sent her brother and cousin into hiding because of her affiliation with Mr. Bell. She did not want to push John away as well. She lay back against the pillow trying to let sleep overtake her, but to no avail. Her mind wandered and she felt herself become more frustrated by the moment that she had no real answers yet. She lay there, through the first of the morning light, until she felt John shifting awake.

He looked over to her seeing that she was already awake. He rubbed his tired eyes and sat up.

"Have you been awake long?" He asked huskily, the sleep not quite gone from his voice.

"No." She lied.

"Margaret, did you not sleep?" He asked with a hint of frustration.

"I could not. There is so much to think about." She sat up, propping her pillows behind her so she was upright.

"I know. My sleep was filled with wakeful dreams." He said sadly.

"What do you dream about?" She asked him.

"You, mostly." He looked away bashfully but then caught the shade of red on Margaret's cheeks. "We will be alright, Margaret, I promise."

Again, Margaret said nothing she merely nodded and gave a slight smile. She knew they would have to part this morning for an indiscernible amount of time. And she wanted to spend every second with him without regret.

* * *

They made it to the station earlier then they thought. They both stood in the bustling platform waiting for the train to come. They knew they were risking a lot being seen together at such close proximity, but they were both past that, with so much more to worry about, proper etiquette seemed silly at a time like this. Only they knew what they were up against and the danger they were facing. How would anyone understand what the two lovers were about to go through? No one would understand, so they paid no attention to anyone else.

"The train will be here soon." Mr. Thornton said mostly for himself. He was preparing himself for their inevitable parting.

"I will try and see you as soon as I can. As soon as I am with my Aunt I will find you." They both knew what she meant was that she would find him in her dreams or in her subconscious.

"Whatever you do, Margaret, do not give away where you are or what your intentions are and I will do my best not to tell you where I am. If Mr. Bell should find me, he could search my mind. The thought of him knowing everything about me is bad enough. But I will not give you away. I will kill myself before he has the chance." She could hear the fear in his voice as he trembled with the thought that he might not make it through this, he wouldn't be able to protect her then.

"Please, John, I cannot stop you from seeking him out. But do not put yourself in harm's way." Margaret knew if he should ever get himself killed on her behalf she wouldn't know how she could have the strength to go on. They both knew she would, if for revenge if nothing else, but it would make it all the more harder to know he wouldn't be waiting for her in the end, when all was over and done with. How she wished she knew how this would end!

The train whistle could be heard far off in the distance, and everyone on the platform readied themselves to board except Margaret and John. The desperation between them grew stronger as the train neared the station.

"Be safe, Margaret. I know you will do well with your Aunt." Mr. Thornton held her close with his palm on her cheek, etching her face in his mind for when he would need to remember it the most.

"When you find him, don't confront him. I will call to you as often as I can then you can tell me where he is. Please, don't do anything until I can come to you." She pleaded with him as her eyes became glossy. She tried to blink away the tears that were threatening to spill but one escaped down her cheek, caught by Mr. Thornton's palm.

He didn't promise, he didn't say another word as he pulled her close to bring their lips together, the last for a long, long time. It was bittersweet as neither wanted to let go, but as the train pulled in, billowing its smoke through the throng of eager passengers, they reluctantly pulled away. Their faces were clouded by the white smoke as Margaret gathered her bag. Mr. Thornton walked her to the door, realizing she was the last to board he became frantic as he pulled her to look at him.

"Margaret, if I don't…" He stammered.

She stopped him with another searing kiss that was her goodbye. She would have no other words as their last parting farewells. She would have no doubts or second thoughts, she needed to leave with a clear mind and strong will to leave him behind in Milton.

He stayed silent as he watched her disappear into the cart. He stepped back with his hands firmly at his side. Once Margaret found her cabin she opened the window for her last look at him. When she rolled the glass all the way down, he came to her at once. The train whistled, signaling its departure. The wheels sprang to life and clamored along the tracks slowly and then all at once she found she was leaving the station.

"Goodbye, Margaret!" It was the last thing she heard him say as the smoke enveloped him and he disappeared from her sight. Like a puff of smoke he was gone and the station slowly dwindled away from her view, disappearing behind the trees and horizon.

When she first came to Milton she was so eager to leave it. Now that she was watching the town disappear from her sight, she found she would never really leave it. So long as Mr. Thornton was still there, a part of her would always be in Milton.

**A/N: So much more to come! Hope this isn't dragging on. Please read and review.**

**A/N2: Thank you so much for those who have reviewed and PM me! To Jwaz01, I cant seem to get the link you sent me to work :/. I'm eager to see what you made.**


	17. Chapter 17

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 17

Margaret had been with her Aunt Shaw for six months. To say that her time spent in London was beneficial was an understatement. Margaret had learned so much about her family and her powers as her Aunt Shaw was a very demanding teacher. But Margaret didn't mind the long nights and constant prodding from her aunt. She needed to learn as much as possible in a short amount of time. Mr. Bell had thousands of years against her, some days she didn't have the confidence to think she could prevail, but other days she knew she had to try.

Her time away from John was already longer then she had anticipated. They had communicated frequently once she arrived in London. But the more she submerged herself in her studies the less she spoke with John. The last she spoke with him, he had kept up his façade of mill owner while they worked behind closed doors, fooling the people of Milton and hopefully Mr. Bell that nothing was amiss. John had told Margaret he still didn't know where the demon was but had faith that wherever he was, they were two steps ahead of him. She believed him with all her heart.

Fanny and Mrs. Thornton were doing their part as well, keeping up appearances while readying themselves to help John and Margaret if they were needed. John had pleaded and then ordered Fanny to stay out of it, until she had made it perfectly clear that she would not stand by while her family went through this. He could hardly turn down her help then. Margaret was thankful for the support, if not for her then for John. They had little family to speak of now and what was left had all been scattered about, kept apart by Mr. Bell.

To Margaret's surprise, Dixon had been taken on in the Thornton household, offering her services as a maid while simultaneously giving Mr. Thornton information on her late mistress and the Beresford's to help them against his landlord. Margaret had been quite surprised and angry that Dixon had known all about the family secret all these years and kept it to herself, even if it had been on orders from her mother she wished that someone had told her of this sooner. Then she would have been all the more prepared to fight the evil Mr. Bell. She supposed that didn't matter now, Dixon choose to stay by the family and her unending commitment would always be appreciated.

She had word from Fred and Edith in the last month and was happy to hear that they were both well but still weary of an unexpected visit from Mr. Bell. Margaret and her aunt Shaw knew Edith was safe in Fred's care. Margaret had thought it silly when Edith had told her that she was jealous that her mama was teaching her all the know how's of being a witch and that she couldn't wait to learn it herself. _How she missed them both_. Margaret missed everyone, Fred, Edith, Bessie, Fanny, and yes even Mrs. Thornton. Especially John, her Dear John that seemed so far away from her now.

London was hot. The constant warm breeze that ran through the open windows did nothing to keep her calm with her inner turmoil. The heat of summer in London made her wonder if she had ever been in the cold harshness of Milton at all. Her time away from her once home and John had weighed heavy on her conscious as she fought through the distance between them. She had to be strong, for herself if not for him. She missed him terribly.

The sweltering heat made Margaret's head ache with every ounce of energy she put into a spell. The world of the supernatural was all but natural to Margaret now. She could levitate objects, read the thoughts of others, see through solid objects, save for a few minor glitches here and there that her Aunt Shaw's now broken tea set would vouch for, which she was sure her Aunt was still punishing her for, she was making great progress.

"Margaret, you must concentrate. Treat the elements and ingredients before you like living beings. They all come together once you let them _be_. How do you expect to make a protection spell if you will not let the ingredients trust you?" Her Aunt Shaw seemed to have forgotten once again that this was all still a new concept to Margaret.

Her first lesson when she arrived in London was to see the world around her full of living souls and energies, not just full of common everyday objects. Things like the bricks in the sidewalk, the wood in a picture frame, or even the pins in her hair all were their own living energies. She just had to realize them as such for her to see and feel them. Her Aunt had taught her to brew a pot of tea but this time with the realization and acknowledgement that the tea leaves and water were entities brought together to create one living mixture. Once it was allowed to come together on its own and in its own time was when the real magic happened and Margaret found it was one of the best cups of tea she had ever had.

Her aunt had explained that it was simply a matter of respecting everything around her and at her disposal as things with their own unique powers and abilities. Once you let them thrive on their own, they will congeal naturally and come together at her whim, with their consent of course.

"How can I concentrate when the anise, calamus, fennel, elder and rue have decided to come together but the blackthorn still refuses?! Out of all the herbs, the blackthorn is the most stubborn or it just doesn't approve of me very much." Margaret said out of exasperation as she took her sullied hands to move the hair away from her face. _She had to finish this tonight!_ There wouldn't be another half moon for weeks and it was detrimental that the phase of the moon was exact to the herbs being used. Otherwise she would get a completely different potion.

"Try working with a moonwort, then you'll know stubbornness." Her aunt replied calmly. "Just try a little harder and be _patient_."

Margaret blew a gust of air from her lungs as she sat back in her chair. She wanted to learn as many spells and potions as possible, but her aunt had narrowed it down to the ones that would aid her in her time of need. She was amazed with the amount of spells there were. There were spells for luck, fidelity, uncovering the truth, safe childbirth, safe travel and justice, to name a few. She came across a love potion and felt a pang in her chest at the thought of John. It had been weeks since she spoke to him or heard his voice. She had no idea if he was even safe or if he found Mr. Bell yet, or worse, if Mr. Bell had found him! She hoped he was safe and that her time spent here was not wasted. Her aunt had suggested the protection spell against Mr. Bell, hoping it would brighten her mood and test her patience. Margaret was determined to get this one right.

She touched the rim of the bowl as she worried her bottom lip thinking of John. Her worry and stress resonated through her arm, down to her hand to the tips of her fingers until it traveled through the bowl, igniting a reaction of the ingredients in the bowl. The mixture of herbs that had come together under Margaret's will sputtered and swam around furiously, begging the blackthorn to join them and end the witch's sorrow. The blackthorn stubbornly spun away from the rest of the herbs until finally it conceded and became one with the rest, calming them and using their individual powers to create the protection spell.

Margaret leaned over in amazement as the dark murky substance turned silver and then dark blue and then finally settled into the color of the sky clouded by a storm. The aroma reminded her of the wet earth and cobble stone, the kind in Milton that seemed to have its own unique smell of dirt and ash.

"I think it worked." Margaret said with a smile as she leaned over the creation.

Her aunt came over to inspect the brew and with a satisfied sigh, said, "Instead of you reading them, they read you. They came together especially for you and Mr. Thornton."

"They can sense him?" She asked amazed.

"He is so heavy on your mind and heart, I'm sure they love him just as you do. The spell will be all the more powerful to the both of you."

"How does it work? I mean, what do I do with it?" Margaret asked eager to use it immediately.

"There are many ways to use it now. It can be saved forever until it is ready for use, although it will lose its strength with time. But it can be ingested, mixed with tea or whatever you like, mixed with concrete for the building of a house, you can put it in a vile to wear around your neck, the possibilities are endless. As long as it is in your reach you are protected."

"I can put it in a vile on a necklace and give it to John. He can wear it. I must send it to him!" Margaret leaped from the table to retrieve a vile to get to him as soon as possible. _Surely it would be safe to send him a parcel._

Margaret rummaged through her aunt's stash of supplies and knick knacks when she spun suddenly to the spell. "I completely forgot!" She said aloud. Then she leant over the bowl and whispered, "Thank you for helping John and me." The spell bubbled once in reply.

Her aunt smiled at the young witch before her. "You are learning fast, Margaret. I don't see a problem with you becoming a very powerful witch very soon."

"Do you really think so?" She beamed. Her mother came to mind hoping that if she were the one teaching her, she would be proud.

"You have always been compassionate and kind your whole life. That will make your abilities all the stronger. Your powers will be quite a force to reckon with if you so chose it." The tone in her aunt's voice told her she was warning her of something.

"I would never use them for anything but good." Margaret declared.

"I know you mean that most sincerely, Margaret. But there will come a time when you will be tested. Nothing good comes from our powers, in the end we will destroy something, whether we want to or not or whether it's good or bad. We can never be too careful."

"I would never hurt John! Or Fred or Edith or Fanny or anyone! I wouldn't let myself." Margaret never even thought she would use her powers beyond destroying Mr. Bell. But if she could use her spells for good, what harm would come of it?

"It's just a warning, my dear, one that your mother and I heard from your grandmother and her mother to her. We must all be on our guard. Especially in a world that doesn't understand our lifestyle. It is dangerous, Margaret, if we are not careful."

"I understand you, aunt." Margaret found herself exhausted by her exertions over the one potion. _Did it usually take so much out of one to create these concoctions?_ "I think I will bottle this up and then retire for the night."

"Of course, Margaret. You did well today." Her aunt told her as she left her niece to finish up alone.

Margaret bottled the potion all in one jar for John. It was no bigger than her pinkie finger and she wondered how such a little thing could protect someone like John. It was amazing to her that it would work but put her trust in it. She had to.

She went to her room and readied herself for bed. With the vile in hand she laid on her side on the covers, it was still too hot even after the sun went down. As she laid her head on the pillow she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. Exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, over and over she did this until she was out of her body looking in. She pushed away all the worry and stress and the events and accomplishments of the day as she searched for him. Locating him while awake was harder then when she was asleep and her mind could wander freely, but she found she could control who might be looking in while she was awake and aware. She couldn't risk Mr. Bell finding out that she could do this.

She searched and searched as she pictured him vividly in her mind, the touch of his hand, his mouth on hers, the crinkle of his eyes as he smiled, even the ink stain on his right hand from writing ledgers. Soon she lost all thought of her own body and location and found herself somewhere else entirely, but not unrecognizable. She found him sitting at his desk in his office hunched over paperwork with a crease in his brow as he worried over what was before him.

"John, can you hear me?" Margaret whispered.

A breeze blew over him as some of his papers fluttered over the desk. He raised his head then after a moment's pause he looked down again.

"John, it's me, its Margaret."

Again the papers fluttered but with more force as he stopped the papers from flying off the desk. He felt the whisper of a voice on the back of his neck. "Margaret?" He said aloud.

Another whisper sounded, not as faint as before but he still couldn't make it out.

"Margaret, I can't hear you." He turned to the empty dark room waiting for her.

"_John, are you there?"_ He heard her loud and clear as if she was there in the room with him. His smile brightened the room at the sound of her voice. It had been too long since he heard her. He wanted to touch her so badly but the last time they had tried to touch like this it broke the connection immediately. It took her days to find him again. Both agreed not to risk the contact again until she got a better feel for this.

"Margaret, I can hear you but I can't see you." He stood up to find where her voice was the strongest.

"_Don't move!"_ Her voice shouted. _"I don't want to lose you again, not like last time."_

He held back impatiently.

"Can I see you?" He asked after the silence over took the room again.

"_I'm not sure if I can manage it tonight." _

_She sounded sad_, he thought.

"I've missed you." He told the empty space in front of him.

"_I've missed you. So much has happened and then so much has not happened. It's strange."_ The voice laughed lightly.

He smiled again as he could swear he could feel her around him.

"_Any news of Mr. Bell?_" She hesitantly asked.

He hung his head and sighed. A little bit of the weight he had felt within the last few weeks lessened its hold on him. "Nothing. It feels liking we're chasing a ghost."

"_We'll find him."_ She reassured him and herself.

"I can't help but think that we're wasting time. He could be closer to finding us both out then we are of finding him. I don't like it." He sat down in his chair again.

"_You look worried."_ Margaret's voice said.

"I'm worried for you not myself." He looked away knowing it was foolish to do so, even though he couldn't see her he knew she could see him.

"_I feel the same."_ She confessed. _"I_ _have no fear for myself, just for those that we have left with us."_

"Margaret, you promised…"

She interrupted him, knowing full well what he was going to say. _"I know, you told me last time I shouldn't worry, it will only hinder my progress with my aunt. But you know how impossible that is."_

He could see her in his mind giving him that look as if to say "you can't argue with me." He shook his head and had to laugh at how easily he could conjure her up in his mind. He looked back to the empty room. "How is it going with your aunt? Good I hope. No trouble?"

"_I made you something."_ She said excitedly. He could hear the smile in her voice. _"Close your eyes_."

He made an exasperated sigh, "Margaret, I can't see you, remember?"

"_Just close them."_ She told him sternly. _"And hold still, I can't do this with you moving about!"_

He closed his eyes and held as still as possible, the smile on his face never leaving him.

"_Open your hand."_ He heard the voice whisper as if she was right by his side; he swore he could feel her breath on his neck.

He opened his palm and held it out steadily. After a few silent moments of hearing or feeling nothing he creased his brow in worry.

"Margaret, my darling, are you still there?"

After a few minutes he thought he had lost her. Just when he was about to open his eyes he felt a weight in his palm. He tried not to move for fear of breaking the connection. When he was sure there was something in his hand he closed his fingers around it feeling the cool hard object in his grasp. He opened his eyes to look at it. The vile contained a liquid that seemed to swirl within like a storm. With every new touch and caress from his hand the substance inside seemed to churn in time.

"What is it?" He asked the silence.

"_It is a protection potion to keep on you at all times."_ He could hear the pride in her voice that this was something that she had made with her own hands and abilities. Had he known that the contents formed because of its knowledge of her love for him he wouldn't have said what he did.

"You should keep it for yourself, Margaret."

"_I made it for you!"_ She told him.

"I wish you would keep it. I would feel better knowing you had it." He kept peering at the contents within, wondering if the angry churning of the potion was on his account or Margaret's.

"_And I would feel better knowing that you had it!"_ She argued.

"I am sorry." As he calmed he could see the potion content with his reaction as it stilled in the vile. "I will wear it always. I'm quite proud of you, Margaret."

"_Thank you, John."_ She didn't tell them that the potion had mixed itself on his account for her worry of him. "_I should go."_

"Already?" He asked with surprise and disappointment.

"_I don't want to stay too long, in case…"_ Her silence was loud enough for him to hear.

"In case he should find us." He finished.

"_We will find him, John."_

He nodded knowing she could see him. It was becoming natural to them to be like this. It was nothing compared to being next to her in person he remembered. The ache of the memories with her caused him to want to risk it all and take her away somewhere to hide forever. Even though he knew it was the wrong thing to do, he couldn't bring himself to care most days. The only thing that kept him going was the thought that Margaret was keeping on for both their sakes. She was enough strength for the both of them and he wasn't afraid to acknowledge it. She was all goodness and purity where he was the servant of a demon. _How could he strive to be worthy?_ He knew being loved by her was enough to keep him good enough in her eyes.

"I love you, Margaret."

"_I love you, John. It won't be long now."_ She told him. She wished she could believe her own words. _"Goodbye."_

Her voice left him like it had arrived, on the breeze of some unseen draft that wafted through the room. The papers became unsettled once again as he sat back in his chair waiting for her presence to completely empty from the room. He knew she was gone when the air suddenly seemed lighter and colder.

After everything settled around him he looked at the vile one last time and kissed it to the delight of the contents before placing it in his breast pocket of his vest.

* * *

Margaret woke in the morning to the brightness of the new day shining in her room. It was still warm but there was a lovely summer's breeze blowing through the room. She lay hazily still in a stupor of sleep as she remembered her night with John. She looked to her empty hand and looked around her for the vile. When it was nowhere to be seen, she lay back happily knowing that it was in his possession.

_She did it! She actually did it_. And finally, _finally_ she had seen him and _oh_ how wonderful it was to hear him and be so near to him. Even though they couldn't touch she knew that he could feel her too. It was almost as satisfying as being near him in person, almost.

She lay with her eyes closed as she soaked in the possibilities of the new day. _What potion or spell would she make today? _She wondered.

The anticipation was too much and she knew she couldn't waste another moment. She got out of bed, dressed herself in her lightest dress and put her hair up away from her neck, and made her way downstairs. She found her aunt in the dining room with breakfast laid out before her.

"Good morning aunt." She said cheerfully as she sat down and buttered a piece of toast.

"You seem in bright spirits." Her aunt remarked before taking a sip of her tea.

"I had a good night's rest." Margaret said as she poured herself a cup adding a splash of milk.

"Is that all?" Aunt Shaw asked without looking at Margaret.

"I spoke to John." She confessed meekly, knowing how much her aunt warned her against it.

"Is that wise?" She huffed, setting down her cup so it clanked on the saucer.

"Probably not but I had to give him the vile."

"Margaret, you know how dangerous it is. The risk is too much! What if Mr. Bell had found you out?"

"I'm ready for him!" Margaret said, trying to contain her frustration. But her aunt could hear it plain as day.

"You may feel like you are but do not overestimate your lessons and underestimate his power. It does not matter how knowledgeable you become he will always be stronger then you." She urged her to understand.

"Then what is the point of me trying at all?!"

"Because you are the only one capable of trying, Margaret."

They were silent as they stared at each other. The silence of the room and the weight of what her aunt had said settled on Margaret's shoulders. She felt, once again, the heavy burden of her task ahead of her. There was a loud knock at the front door, muffled as it was down the hall into the dining room they heard it loud and clear. It was enough of a distraction to give Margaret the courage to speak to her aunt.

"You don't know what it's like." Margaret sighed.

"Hush! How dare you! Your mother and I went through the same thing with Mr. Bell as you are going through right now. The only difference is that your mother was not as strong as you are now, Margaret. And that is why Mr. Bell is stopping at nothing to have your power as his own. Never forget, that you are the strongest threat to him."

Voices could be heard down the hall, a servant had answered the door but the visitor's identity had yet to be revealed. Margaret pushed away the voices to understand what her aunt was telling her.

"I'm sorry, aunt. I'm just so unsure of myself at the moment. In a moment I feel as if I am stronger than I ever can be even stronger than Mr. Bell. But there is still so much I do not know. You have helped me greatly. I'm just not sure I can wait any longer."

"Remember, Mr. Bell has waited centuries for the right moment. Why not make him wait a little while longer?"

Margaret laughed at the mischievous look on her aunt's face. She could see though her attention distracted by the commotion going on outside in the hall.

"Who could that be?" Her aunt rose from the table leaving Margaret in the room alone.

Margaret sipped at her tea thinking of what her aunt had said. Was her mother the lucky one to be so fragile? It seemed like a curse to Margaret that Mr. Bell should think her worthy enough to try and contain her powers or to take them for his own desires. After a few moments Margaret's attention was alerted at the raised voices coming from the hall. She rose out of her seat and followed after her aunt. The scene before her would have been comical if it hadn't been for the fact that her aunt was raising her voice to two constables. The man that was receiving the majority of her aunt's ire had bristled and turned red while the other had stood by sternly with the ease of a gentleman. The maid, who had answered the door, stood by ringing her hands together as she witnessed her mistress's fury.

"You will not! Leave this house immediately!" Her aunt yelled to them.

"You cannot tell me what to do madam. I am under orders and I must carry them out!" The red faced man yelled back to her.

"How dare you! I told you to leave!" She pushed at him.

"Aunt, what is going on?" Margaret quickly came up to them. Upon hearing her all eyes went to her.

"Is this her?" The constable asked while looking at Margaret.

"Do not touch her!" Her aunt started to move in front of her, shielding her from their view, but the constable pushed her aside and gestured his man to Margaret.

"Go on." He said. And before she could comprehend what was happening she felt the cold steal of handcuffs binding her hands together. The snap and clang of the lock sent her into a state of fight or flight. She stepped away from the man who just pulled on the chain to keep her in one place. Before she could get a word out the red faced constable came to her side and said, "Miss Hale, you are under arrest for the practice of witchcraft and possible attempt of harm to others. It is my duty to inform you that anything which you may say will be used against you in evidence. I arrest you in the Queen's name as being concerned in the crime you are being accused of."

As she was led away her aunt watched as Margaret was taken out of her home. She stood by speechless at what was happening. Margaret didn't know what to say, what to think or do. She followed numbly where the two constables led her as a crowd gathered to watch a lady being arrested. Everything seemed to slow down as she took in the black carriage before her and the gawking faces of those who had stopped to watch. She took the steps one at a time and tried to breathe evenly. She felt a prickle on her skin and the unease in her body as her hair started to writhe on its own accord. It took everything within her to keep her powers from betraying her innocence now. She should have listened to her aunt when she said she would be tested. She just didn't think it would come to this. How would she be able to contain herself under the stress and observation? Time caught up as they neared the bottom of the steps to the side walk where the carriage waited to take her away. Margaret ducked her head as she was ushered into the police carriage. She looked out of the window across the street to see the satisfied smirk of her godfather, Mr. Bell.

**A/N: I know right? Finally an update!**

**To Christine Golden: Thank you so much for your review! I appreciate the time you have taken to read and review. I don't have a beta reader and the only reason I don't is because I'm just doing this for fun and I try on my own to watch my mistakes. I know there are some on this story but I get so excited that I just post it and then realize later that there are errors. But really, I appreciate your time in noticing the details. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.**

**Julia Daniels: Thank you for PM me! I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**And to everyone else who has reviewed or just keeps reading, thank you!**


	18. Chapter 18

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 18

**Important A/N: This chapter may be a little graphic for some of you. It certainly is much darker then any other I have posted. I thought you deserved a warning. Read on if you dare!**

Time seemed to slow down for Margaret. Sitting in the police carriage, an officer next to her and one in front of her, she felt her mind struggle to catch up. _How had this happened?_ She knew the answer to that of course. It was her godfather's doing. She did not dare speak or ask questions, afraid to know what Mr. Bell had fully accused her of. _Did they still prosecute witches and the practice of witch craft?_ The memory of a thousand years of innocent witches being burned and tortured made Margaret's skin prickle and her heart race. Her body's natural reaction was to flee, to run away before they could harm her. But with the shackles and her guards, it was near impossible. She understood now why her Aunt told her she wasn't ready and that she needed more time, time to learn and adapt to what her senses were warning her of. She was so naive to think she alone could handle Bell. He had thousands of years against her and he had strung her up in the most obvious way. He tightened the noose around her neck so to speak.

Without her mind comprehending what was happening, her body allowed itself to be taken from the carriage. Rough hands and sudden jerks on her arms pulled her to the three story building in front of her. The gray stone and black iron bars stood cold and foreboding, but Margaret could feel the agony and the pain from many inhabitants that had been held here. She hoped she would not face the same fate.

Margaret was handed from one man in uniform to another. She could vaguely hear her name being repeated over and over again and what her charges were. Hesitant hands reluctantly took her in custody at the mention of the word _witch_. _Did they fear her?_ Finally she was put into a small room without the luxury of iron bars, the room, which was no bigger than a closet in her Crampton home, was dark, water dripped from the ceiling down to the floor below. She could hear the faint muffled cries and screams from the cells around her. _How long will they leave me in here?_

Cold and shivering in the darkness, she felt around her, keeping her eyes closed to better focus on what her hands were touching. Her foot hit something soft and she fell to discover it. A mattress was laid out. By the feel of it she wagered it had never been washed. She settled herself drawing her knees close to her chest and holding herself together. She didn't know how much time had passed and realized time didn't exist in places like this, but soon the door opened and the light from the hall shined through. Another man strode in and picked her up to her feet before she realized what he was doing. She was pushed in the opposite direction that had brought her to the cell and followed blindly down the hall until the gruff man said, "Stop. To your left."

Margaret turned to the door, unsure if he meant her to enter or knock. The man, becoming inpatient, knocked twice and then opened the door, all but shoving her in.

"Hale, Margaret." She heard her name being announced and then the click of the door being shut behind her.

One man was sat in the middle of the room. Another was standing with arms crossed in the corner. The one in the corner followed her every move and eyed her wherever she was looking. Dressed all in white he looked like he worked in a hospital, _maybe a doctor,_ Margaret thought. The other man, a little older was seated behind a table, he wore a black suit and his glasses hung from his vest pocket, his hair was shaved closely to his head, Margaret noticed that his ears and nose were pointed in the oddest way. She didn't know what to expect, but the man in black addressed her without looking up, "Miss Hale, please sit." He gestured to the chair opposite him and as Margaret moved she noticed the man in white twitch slightly with every one of her movements.

She carefully sat in the chair, aware of the eyes on her. For what seemed like an eternity the man in black sorted through papers in front of him. Margaret guessed he was trying to look like he was studying something, but the feeling in her chest told her he was studying her without actually looking at her. She told herself to be mindful of everything she did and said. After a moment of the man putting his papers back in order and closing the envelope, he finally looked up at her. The surprised expression on his face startled her. He seemed to assess something as he kept leaning forward and then looked back to the man in the corner as he said, "Not a typical witch, is she?" They both laughed.

Margaret's face fell, showing just how unamused she thought the whole situation was. The man in black quickly sobered up seeing her determined face.

"Now, Miss Hale, I am Sergeant Morritz. Do you know why you have been brought into custody?"

_Lie_. "No."

He smiled at the corner of his mouth showing great white teeth, his red lips quivering over the pale gums. Margaret suppressed a shudder. He pulled open the envelope again and pulled out a piece of paper.

"It says here, you have been charged with the practice of witch craft." He looked at her expectantly.

She stayed quiet, never taking her gaze from his.

"Not even an expression of shock Miss Hale?" He sat back, truly entertained.

She didn't say anything. She knew anything she said would be used against her.

"Come now Miss Hale if you do not speak with me now, there are others who will get their answers from you. And they're not as pleasant as me I can assure you." His smile never left him, but Margaret could read the threat underlining his words.

"Are you threatening me?" She asked calmly.

"I am _warning _you, Miss Hale that if you do not comply with me now. We will have to resort to more drastic measures." The man in the corner moved to the right of her bringing her attention the table she hadn't noticed when she entered the room. It was covered with a variety of instruments she knew looked like they were used by doctors and surgeons. The glistening silver of the knives and other tools that she could never imagine what they were used for sent a cold chill through her body. She felt all at once the blood rush from her head and her toes tingled as they fought to move.

She turned to the Sergeant and he knew she understood.

"Please, Miss Hale, it is only in case you do not comply with us. Talk to me." He folded his hands in front of him.

She sat back but nodded her consent.

"I will first ask you straight out, have you dabbled in witchcraft?"

"No."

"Do you know anyone who has?"

"No."

He became agitated that even though she was answering his questions he was not getting the answers he desired. He laid his palms flat on the table. "Then why would someone accuse you of these allegations?"

"I do not know. Maybe you should be asking them that question."

"We have Miss Hale. And do you know what they said?"

"No." She shifted in her seat. She was finally going to know the details of the crimes pitted against her.

He pulled out another piece of paper. "It says here that you are responsible for the disappearance of a Mr. Nicholas Higgins, Miss Bessie Higgins, Mr. Boucher, Mrs. Boucher and their seven young children. We have witnesses that state they say you frequented with these missing persons and that you dealt with witchcraft and dealings with the occult."

Upon hearing what she was being accused of, Margaret rose from her chair alerting the man in the corner to bring her back in her seat. As he made her sit back down, firmly taking her by the arms, she said, "It's not true, they're safe! I had nothing to do with that, I know they are safe!"

"Then where are they Miss Hale?!" He bellowed, causing his head to turn red.

"I…I don't know, but I was told they were safe!" _John told me they were safe_.

"By whom? Your brother?"

Margaret was speechless. _How and why would they bring Fred in all of this?_ Were they looking for any excuse to find her guilty, by bringing her brother into this they would use all that they could?

"I haven't seen my brother since I was a young girl. I don't know where he is. He has nothing to do with this!" She was frantic. Even now she was bringing those she loved most into danger. _Would it never end?_

"It is very possible Miss Hale that your brother has everything to do with this."

"He doesn't! I'm telling you I do not know where he is!" _Oh God, Fred and Edith, may they never find you!_

"Then tell us who, Miss Hale, who knows where they are?!"

"I," She wouldn't name anyone, she didn't even know if John, or Fred, Or Edith was still alive or going through the exact same thing she was, "I don't remember."

"Come now, Miss Hale! You are lying, tell us where they are and show us they are unharmed and all charges will be dropped."

"I don't know where they are, you must believe me!"

"Believe the word of an accused witch? Miss Hale, witch or not I have witnesses that can attest to your involvement in the disappearance of these Miltoners."

"What witnesses?" _Who besides Mr. Bell would accuse her, or was he the only one that had a hand in this?_

"I cannot give away their identity. They are under the protection of the law."

"So am I, until I am proven guilty."Margaret said determinedly.

"Miss Hale, I do not think you understand the enormity of what you are being charged with. Unless the missing persons turn up unscathed we will assume that they are dead and you are their murderer. Now, given that you are also being accused of witchcraft it would serve you well to comply with us and give us what we want."

"Which is what exactly?"

"Either you can confess to murdering the missing persons and receive the highest form of punishment or confess to being a witch and be charged with both."

"I will not."

"Then Miss Hale you give us no choice. In a week's time you will be put to trial for both the murders and your involvement of witchcraft. You will be given a lawyer and witnesses will have the chance to stand against you or for you. Have you anything to say before we lock you away?"

"I have an alibi. For every single day I was in Milton, I have people that can attest to where I was and that I mean no harm to anybody." Margaret told him as she thought of all the people she hoped would come to her aid.

Sergeant Morritz stood from his seat to leave the room. "Then I suggest you talk to your lawyer and call your witnesses. I hope for your sake they turn up. Good day, Miss Hale." With a nod to the man in white that stood as witness, he left Margaret. She hoped she never saw him again. Something about him from the very beginning just felt off. But then she supposed with what situation she was in, she would think ill of anyone that she met in here.

The man in white knocked on the door signaling for someone to escort Margaret back to her cell. As she was taken to another cell that thankfully had at least a window with glass, she thought about John. _Had Bell found him? Was he alive? Or was he enduring the same mistreatment she was?_ If only she could communicate with him and find out what was happening, but she would never risk using any sort of magic or spell. She knew how closely she was being watched. She just had to wait it out. The prospect of waiting seemed unbearable to her but it was better than facing the noose or a lifetime in jail. _Did they hang women?_ She felt now more than ever how Fred must have felt, has felt, all these years with the promise of death by hanging always lingering, waiting to find you.

The same man in white entered the room with Margaret along with an officer. They waited behind her as she assessed the room she was standing in. It was pristine, white tiled walls and floors and it smelled of ammonia. It almost burned her nostrils.

"Put these on." The man in white handed her a wool shirt and skirt the color of watered down mustard, she knew it used to be white. She took the itchy fabric and held it to her, waiting for the men to give her privacy. But they stood looking at her.

"Is there a screen I can dress behind?" She asked, knowing the moment she did she knew the answer already.

"For our safety and yours, you have to change in front of us." The officer told her without an ounce of pity.

Shocked, Margaret diverted her gaze around the room, to see the same tools and instruments strewn about, waiting to be used.

"Am I to be examined?" She shuddered.

"Yes." The man in white said.

"Are you a doctor?"

"Once you undress, we will do a quick examination, check for disease, wounds, and lice and then you can go back to your cell."

She became very aware in the moment of just how bright the room was. They _would see everything!_ How she wanted to be back in that cold dark cell instead of here with two strange men, waiting for her to take her clothes off.

She started, with shaking hands to undo the buttons on her blouse. She untucked it from her skirt and looked for a place to set it. The officer stepped forward with a bag, when she put her shirt in it he made no motion that he was going to move away. With both sets of eyes on her she undid her skirt, and rather than hand it over, she let it fall to pool around her feet. With her underskirts and corset still shielding her, she knew there wasn't much left. She closed her eyes tight and felt with her fingers as she unlaced her corset, she was glad neither of the men offered to help. She didn't think she could bear it then. Corset loosed and skirt undone she stripped them from her body leaving her in her shift. With a shrug of her shoulders and a deep breath, Margaret felt the fabric gather at her hips as the cool air stung her breasts. Before she let the shift reveal her completely, she grabbed the wool shirt to put it on.

"Not yet, we still have to examine you." She still had her eyes shut but knew the man in white was the one addressing her.

Reluctantly she pulled down her shift leaving her completely exposed. Even with her eyes closed she felt eyes on her and shivered involuntarily.

"Raise your arms." The doctor_, she_ _hoped he was a doctor,_ instructed.

She raised her arms and opened her eyes so as not to be alarmed when he came forward.

He went to the table first and grabbed an instrument that was out of her view. Her heart leaped wildly at the thought of what they would do to her. She knew women were not well treated in situations like these and feared that the nightmares she had heard would become her reality. She felt the cold instrument, which she thought must be like a wand, poking and prodding her. Under her chin, in her hair, her ears, between her fingers and toes, he told her to open her mouth, as she did he looked inside and poked her some more.

Finally, he told her to dress and she did so as fast as she could. The officer escorted her back to her dark cell, and she felt almost safe as she walked quickly to the room. Once the door was shut behind her, Margaret sat on her cot and cried. Not for herself, she was not afraid. But she feared that if Mr. Bell had John, he wouldn't get as good a treatment as she had just endured. With that last thought she made herself go to sleep, eager to get to tomorrow and face whatever would be thrown at her.

* * *

For two days, Margaret sat in her dark cell, alone with no visitor. The only way she knew how much time had passed was when she was brought her meals, which consisted of stale bread, cold soupy porridge and tepid water, and when the guard would call for lights out. Margaret realized during her first night that she must be in the women's cell block. The constant crying and wailing, muffled as they were through the thick walls, were unmistakable. Margaret could only think of John and hope that he had heard about what Bell has done and get anyone he could to defend her, unless Bell had him to, but Margaret refused to think that was an option.

Margaret feared that she would never be let out, and that they would just find her guilty without so much as a trial, and be put to death or sentenced to life. But the saving grace came on the third day when Margaret's cell door was opened and the guard announced she had a visitor. With achy and cold bones Margaret sprung up and out of her cell, it could have been Sergeant Morritz for all she cared, just as long as she could escape that cell for two minutes.

She was taken to the first level and into a series of rooms that connected to one another. She was surprised but most certainly elated to see Mrs. Thornton and Fanny! whom she realized she hadn't seen for an age. Margaret beamed brightly as she embraced Fanny, but could see the shocked and horrified face that Fanny held upon seeing the state of Margaret. Her mouth hung open as she searched for words, while Mrs. Thornton stood to the side in quite rage at what they had done to her John's love.

"Oh Fanny, Mrs. Thornton, thank you!" Margaret eyes filled with tears at the happiness she felt at seeing them. _But_ _then where was John?_ Even though she would never want him to see her like this, his absence did not sit well with the cold feeling in her heart.

"Is John safe?" Margaret asked.

"As soon as we heard what happened to you, we came straight away. Your Aunt Shaw contacted us. She was leaving to find Edith. She said she had to be with her daughter." Fanny told her as Margaret nodded, taking it all in.

"Where is John?" Margaret asked again.

Fanny looked at her hands and then to her mother for advice. _What would they not tell her?_

"He has been missing since you were arrested." Mrs. Thornton stood with pride as she relayed the message that was a blow to Margaret's heart, but she could see the wavering emotions in his mother, as she tried not to fall apart.

"Missing? What has happened?" Margaret's panic started to rise as her worst fears appeared to be coming true.

"We know as much as you, Margaret." Fanny told her, her own tears falling down her face. "The very day you must have been taken in, he was nowhere to be found. No sign of…anything."

"Gone?" Margaret whispered. Surely this meant Bell had found him. She hoped for Bell's sake that he was still alive, she would not him live another day for this.

"Did my Aunt leave any kind of message for me?"

"She did," And here Mrs. Thornton came closer and lowered her voice to as not be heard, "But I cannot give it to you now. Under the circumstances it would not help your case if others should hear."

"Of course." Margaret nodded in understanding. "Mr. Bell told them that I am a witch and that I am responsible for the disappearance of Nicholas, Bessie and the Boucher's."

The horrified look on the Thornton women matched the agony that Margaret was feeling.

"Well, we will tell them you have nothing to do with them, they are safe and sound, and surely they cannot charge you for a crime that hasn't been committed!" Mrs. Thornton argued.

"I would have hoped that you would say so and come to my aid, but now that John is missing there is no one to plead that they are well and truly safe. Without John, there is no evidence."

"Preposterous!" Was all Mrs. Thornton could blurt out. By now she had taken to pacing the floor, thinking of what could be done.

"I need a lawyer. I will not plead guilty and so I must go to trial. And I need witnesses for my duration in Milton."

"Your Aunt had settled those affairs," Fanny informed Margaret, "She did not tell us more than that I'm afraid."

"Then where the devil is this lawyer? My trial is in four days! By the time he comes I will have no one to stand witness for me. If I do not beat this I will never be able to find John!" Margaret cried.

"We will help you, Margaret. You will get out of this. And we will find John alive." Mrs. Thornton held her in one place making Margaret look into her eyes so she had no choice but to believe her.

She nodded. "Alright. But you two must leave. I cannot have the both of you in danger while Bell is still out there."

"Never!"

"Out of the question!"

Both women said in unison at Margaret's proposal.

"We will not leave you alone in this. And my John would not want us to leave you and so I shall not for his sake!" Mrs. Thornton all but yelled at Margaret for even suggesting that they leave her and John behind to deal with Bell alone.

Fanny said more kindly, "We will not cower while my brother's fate is still unknown. We are more powerful against Bell if we stay together through this."

"Thank you both, for everything. I miss him terribly. I just wish I could know!" Margaret said as Fanny embraced her again.

"We must get through this first," Mrs. Thornton stated, "Then we will find him and Bell. The demon has gone on long enough."

* * *

It was another sleepless night for Margaret. The knowledge that John's whereabouts was unknown was too much for her. She felt trapped more than ever in this cell that was keeping her from finding him. _How much more can they endure under the hand of Mr. Bell?_ Margaret wouldn't even let herself believe that he might be gone from her already, she had to give herself the chance, she had to hold onto the little bit of hope she had for their future. Her only comfort was that she had given John the protection spell and that he still had it on his person.

She was relying on her Aunt, that she really had found her a lawyer and was already doing his part in proving her innocence and getting her out. She imagined that Aunt Shaw had already made it to Spain with Fred and Edith. They would know by now what has happened to her. She curled on her side as thoughts fought for dominance in her mind. She didn't know she had fallen asleep until she woke from the loud knock on her door the next morning. The same guard from the previous day opened the door and said, "Well aren't you the popular one. You've got another visitor."

She was less enthusiastic of the prospect of bad news about John. Or maybe Fanny had received a message from Spain. Either way, she was not as light in her step on her way to see who had paid her a visit. _Maybe it was finally her lawyer!_

Instead of the usual visitor's area that Margaret had been taken to yesterday, she was brought to an office in the nicer part of the building. The officer escorting her knocked lightly on the door waiting for entry. She heard a muffled, "Come in."

The door opened to reveal a very familiar silhouette standing against the light from the window.

"Here you are, sir." The officer said behind Margaret.

Mr. Bell turned and looked at Margaret and looked very pleased at the state she was in, _his doing_, he mused. Her hair usually kept up and neat, hung around her shoulders in knots and the color of the wool clothes made her look pale and fragile…_and weak_, he laughed to himself.

"My dear Margaret what a pitiful state you are in." He came forward to embrace her and she pulled back from his advances and snarled, "No thanks to you."

Bell smiled that her spirit had seemingly been untouched. He looked at the officer and excused him. Once they were alone, Bell turned about the room as Margret stayed in one place, watching the predator stalk his prey, but she felt no fear.

"Have you learned your lesson, Margaret?" He asked looking her over.

"Yes. I should have ended you a long time ago." She told him without missing a beat.

He laughed heartily as his voice echoed throughout the well furnished room. It was obviously a captain's office. Bell certainly had friends in low and high places.

"You will make this enjoyable, Margaret. I always knew you would be a force to be reckoned with."

"Is that why you chose me to…_mate_ with?" She almost gagged on the word. The thought of being a mother to any of his spawn was enough to make her sick.

"You know about that do you? My, you and John have been busy." His smile faltered but not enough for Margaret to take notice.

"Where is John?" She had enough of the small talk.

"I haven't laid one finger on him. No one knows where he is. Perhaps at the first sign of your capture, he fled like the coward he is. Just like his father." Bell said with as much relish and fake pity as he could muster.

"You expect me to believe you? I wouldn't trust one word you said. Your desperate attempt to make me doubt him will do you no good. So the least you can do is be up front with me." Margaret jabbed at him. She could see the fury on his face that this was not going to go the way he wanted. He knew he needed to gain back control if he wanted his plan to work.

"I'm done playing with you, silly girl. If you want to see John alive, you will do exactly what I say." He said menacingly.

"Which is what? You have me put in jail, accuse me of murder, which I am innocent of, you accuse me of witchcraft, which…"

"You are guilty of." He smiled at her.

After her silence, he continued. "You know what they do to witches, don't you, Margaret?"

_Fire_. She felt it, the flames licking her, burning her. She knew.

"If you agree to give yourself to me and be at my side I will have then drop all charges. It will be but dust in your eyes when were done here. And I will let John go, unharmed."

"I don't believe you."

"Do you really think you have a choice, my dear?" He argued.

She knew him too well to believe she would let John go. Whether she went with him or not, John would always be in danger. She would not let him have the upper hand over her in this. She wouldn't agree to anything until she saw John herself. She would get through this trial without him, and then she would face him.

"No." He couldn't hold her hands behind her back by waving John in her face. She knew he wouldn't get rid of him that easily. _Then what would he bribe her with?_

"I'm rather disappointed. I would have made it easier on him if you agreed, but not on you. I would have spent a lifetime teaching you a lesson and taming you." He came near her so that his voice was right by her ear.

"Go to hell." She looked up at him, letting him know she wasn't scared of him anymore.

"If I go back, I'm taking you with me." He left her alone to begin her trial.

**A/N 2: I should rename this story Margaret Hale: Demon Hunter. Please read and review. We're getting down to the last chapters here and I didn't get very much feedback from the last chapter. Not that the reviews fuel my writing but it is nice to hear that people are still enjoying and reading this story. Please and thank you I hope you enjoyed it!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Margaret was with her Aunt Shaw for a little over six months which would bring us into summer, also making it almost a year since she moved to Milton. Thought you should know. Proceed and enjoy!**

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 19

The next day found Margaret being summoned into court for a hearing to determine if there would be a trial after all. With no sign of her lawyer, Margaret wondered why they would even bother with a hearing. They would only ask her the same questions that would come about during her trial. Would they appoint her a lawyer? Had they done so already without her knowledge? Where was the lawyer Mrs. Thornton said her Aunt had found her? The few days she spent in her cell had kept her in the dark. Margaret hadn't a clue to what was taking place inside the courthouse or out of it. _Or whether John was alive_, she thought grimly.

_John, what has Bell done with you? What are they going to do with me?_

Margaret was determined to get through this as quickly as possible. She didn't know how she would manage it, but she had to get out, to find John and make sure he was safe. She called Bell's bluff when he said he knew nothing of his whereabouts, but even she couldn't trust in that. She had to see him for herself.

Margaret only started to contemplate what they would ask her about as she was escorted to the court room. They had given her clothes back and she had privacy to make up her hair and overall appearance. When Margaret peered into the dingy mirror seeing the reflection looking back at her gave her a start. She knew it had only been a few days since she had been kept here, but the circles under her eyes, pallor complexion, and dirty skin made her feel as if she had never seen the light of day. Again, her thoughts went to John and where he could possibly be right now. Wherever he was, she hoped he was in a far better situation then she was.

Margaret's two escorts kept a fair enough distance between them and her. Most likely the news that they had a witch in custody caused a few faint hearts to cower in fear at the thought of being in her presence and under her spell. Margaret could feel the familiar prickle on her neck as the two officers seared their gaze on the back of her head. Her witches instinct was a great advantage she had come to learn would benefit her in her future battles against the likes of demons. With her hands in shackles she wondered how much they had to fear in her. _Fear of the unknown is a powerful thing indeed._

As they neared closer, Margaret could feel the hum of energy resonating through the high wooden doors that would lead her to her hearing. She paused before the doors waiting for permission to enter. The doors opened with a great rush and the gentle hum turned into a torrent of roars coming from the men that argued back and forth at one another. White wigs were waived in the air, fists were thrown around in frustration, and the general angry expression could be found on each of the men's faces. As Margaret followed towards the front of the court room a few hushed pleads for silence caused the angry voices to die down around her. As she neared the judge in his white wig and red robe, his expression all calm and collected, he nodded to the officers escorting her and they took her to a box that sat higher than the floor and was level with the pew where the judge sat, so the whole room would be able to get a good look at her. She knew her voice would carry well through the room, to the furthest corners, and to the second level that she now noticed also held a vast sum of men still bringing their interrupted arguments to a close with her presence.

After situating herself in her cubicle, Margaret looked to the judge with an heir of complete confidence, though inside she fought to keep her composure and held her hands together tightly to keep from trembling.

The judge ignored her and called the court to order and proceeded to look through what she supposed must be her files.

"Miss Margaret Hale." He stated to the court.

Margaret kept still and tried not to look around her as the silence in the room was more deafening then with the angry shouts of frustrated men. She felt a prickle of energy in her hand and hoped that now of all times her magic would stay hidden beneath the surface. Another few seconds passed before he acknowledged her.

"This is a hearing on your behalf to determine whether you will be tried at court. It seems that your lawyer is not here at the moment. In the circumstance that he does not make himself known to defend you, you shall be appointed a lawyer of the court's choosing. Have you any objections?" The judge, whom Margaret guessed must have been at least eighty years old, judging by his worn face and tired eyes, addressed her directly and she found she couldn't answer the question as directly, but instead ask him a question in turn.

"Have I a lawyer? I have not seen him, so you might as well choose one that is capable of fulfilling his duties." Margaret said without an ounce of fear. If they had expected a witch in all her true glory they would find instead a sophisticated lady that had been wrongly accused. In that moment Margaret knew that was her strategy. Without a lawyer to guide her she would take it upon herself to get her out of this situation. _Play the haughty, arrogant lady. Put aside your pride to save yourself and John._

The room ended up in a fit of laughter with some of the more experienced jurors mumbling their displeasure. The judge hacked away at his block silencing the court again. He then pointed his gavel straight at her as he told her, "You will do well to take care and be courteous in my court Miss Hale. Do you not realize the seriousness of the situation you find yourself in?"

Margaret couldn't help but laugh and made a show to make it seem like how preposterous she found the question. "The _seriousness_ of my situation?" She asked back. "You cannot truly believe that I am what I'm being accused of?"

"So you deny it then? You deny being likened to the term "witch". Do you deny any involvement with witchcraft?"

"I do." She said sternly.

"Well then you will have no issue with me proceeding with questioning you in the absence of your lawyer." He eyed her, daring her in her knowledge of court proceedings and hoping to put her in her place with her ignorance.

"I have done well without him so far, wherever he may be."She stated haughtily as her answer.

"Then we will proceed." The old judge smirked, she may have an heir about her but he would have no issue tearing that façade down. So many came through his courtroom with much confidence only to be beaten down with unrelenting strength of the law.

"When did you come to Milton Miss Hale?"

"September of last year." _How long ago that seems now_, she wondered, _how_ _much has happened._

"What brought you to Milton?" He kept his questions in a steady rhythm.

"My mother had just died. My father and I decided it would be best to move to a place where work could be found."

"And did your father not die soon after?"

"He did. Just after the new year." Margaret hung her head with the thoughts of her deceased parents. How different would everything have changed if not for the loss of them? Or indeed if Frederick had never joined the Navy and had to go into hiding bringing mother to her demise, she would have never had met John. The possibilities of what could have been were endless, and yet she would not change a single moment.

"Is that why you returned to London to live with your Aunt? Had you no other relative to take you in?"

"My Aunt is my mother's sister. Even if I had other relations I would choose to stay with her."

"You have no other relation?" Margaret noticed his tone changed and decided it was no coincidence. He was working up to something. And her fear that she knew exactly what it was caused her to swallow harshly with the lump in her throat.

"No." She finally breathed out.

"What about your brother, Frederick Hale? Is he not around to take you in, to shelter you? Where was he during your parent's deaths? Why is he not here now?" The questions were pointless, he knew why her only brother was not here to defend her, he wanted to startle her, to break her, and Margaret was afraid of just that.

Margaret knew this would come up when she was first taken in and questioned by Sergeant Morritz about Fred, but she didn't expect it so soon. "Fred…my brother…he, I have not seen him since I was a young girl."

"Not since he joined the Navy, and since has been a wanted man for mutiny, whose whereabouts are still unknown?"

"I haven't seen him. I don't know where he is."

"You are in a court of law Miss Hale. Lying now will only make it harder on you." She trembled with the thought that he knew the truth. _How could he?_ Unless Bell really was everywhere, then she was damned no matter what and so was John.

"I'm not exactly on trial now am I? I have sworn on no Bible. I have agreed to answer your questions but they will in no way be used against me to determine my sentence when we are done here." She declared knowingly. She knew enough of the law to know her rights and when they were being violated.

"Indeed." He sneered. "Did you murder or have any knowledge of the disappearance of the Boucher family or the Higgins family?"

"No, of course not!" She shrieked, horrified.

"You seem very sure."

"They were my friends."

"And yet you have no knowledge of their whereabouts either." She felt a pang in her chest at his insinuation. How dare he question her and her loyalty to her friends.

"Milton is a hard place to live. I wouldn't doubt that they left looking for something better. And even though they were my friends I would never forsake them for leaving without saying goodbye. In the time that I have lived in Milton I found its people kind and giving but also reclusive and private. I would not be a good friend to them if I pried into any of their personal business. It saddens me greatly to not know where they are or to have not been able to say goodbye. But I am not guilty on any of the charges put against me, especially that of murdering my own friends."

"And yet these friends have not come to your aid to help you?" He pushed her further and he forged on. "Do you know anything about witchcraft and the occult, Miss Hale?"

"Only what I have been taught through my adolescence. Every child has read a sermon or two on the evils of the world and how to be a good Christian to protect oneself from evil."

"A yes or no will do Miss Hale. Remember you are not on trial yet." He sounded exasperated but she knew he lived for this, the game of cat and mouse.

Margaret was infuriated to have her words thrown back at her. "No."

"I have here some records from the public library of Milton that _five_ books on the occult were checked out to a Miss Hale of Crampton. And out of those five books none of them were the Bible. Can you explain that to me and the court Miss Hale?" _Oh, how he loved to play the cat, but she was no mouse._

But Margaret could not give an explanation.

"Miss Hale, please answer the question."

"I," _Deny, deny everything!_ Her senses were on fire with the threat of being found out. Her inner witch was struggling to maintain composure. The urge to flee was too much for her. She complied with the voice in her head, "I did not check out any such books." She said with a steady voice while trying to keep her witch's instinct from flourishing.

"You are telling me, these logs from the public library are forgeries, have they been tampered with Miss Hale?"

"I cannot say on that account but I do know that I never checked out one book from that library."

"I see." He snapped his mouth shut.

"In cases such as these it is beneficial to call witnesses. If your lawyer was to call the owner of the Milton library to confirm this paper, are you ready to defend that you have never stepped foot into that library and that this signature is in fact not yours?"

"I am."

"Have you any other relations in Milton that would be able to give an alibi to support you? Not only in the case of these papers but with the duration of this trial, is there anyone that could stand to defend you by giving a statement and answering any questions we might have for them?"

Everyone she knew was no longer in Milton. Besides Fanny and Mrs. Thornton, there was no one. How could she ask them to stand for her? They would surely be asked what their relation to her was, and at the mention of Mr. Thornton he would be summoned only to bring to light his disappearance. Margaret knew how horribly that would be in her favor. The Boucher's were lost, as were Nicholas and Bessie. Edith was safe with her Aunt. There was no point in counting on Fred. Asking him to come to court for her sake would certainly put the noose around his neck. Margaret realized _there is no one_.

She whispered to herself, "There is no one." The feeling of defeat sinking into her and the idea of no hope was leaving her cold, that she was truly alone in this. How would she get out of this? She couldn't, she would never find John.

"There is no one." She whispered it again, the weight of the words becoming her reality.

"Please, speak up, Miss Hale."

"There is no one." She said out loud for the whole court to hear.

"Is there anyone here that will speak for Miss Hale?" The judge looked around, daring anyone to come to the mouse's aid.

The deafening silence surrounded her as no voices were heard. She would go to trial and it would not turn out well for her. Margaret had no hope of anyone standing for her. Just as the judge was going to make his statement, a voice, clear and strong rang through the courtroom making everyone turn their head in the direction of Margaret's savior.

"I will." He made his way through the throng of men, his hand in the air, signaling his entry so all could see. He determinedly walked towards the pew where the judge sat and where Margaret looked on in confusion.

"I will speak for this woman." Henry Lennox looked to Margaret with a smile, the smile that of a friend, come to give his aid in her time of need. Margaret didn't know what she did to ever doubt Henry Lennox or why he had come to her now, but she knew she would be eternally grateful to him.

"Who the devil are you?" The judge asked him with a hint of annoyance in his voice. He thought he had won over the proud Miss Hale. Who was this man to take it away his small victory?

"I am her lawyer," He gestured to Margaret warmly, "Mr. Henry Lennox."

Her Aunt Shaw said she had a lawyer for him, she never suspected that it would be Henry. How glad she was that it was him.

"I was just about to make a decree to proceed immediately for her trial." Henry could hear the annoyance in the judge's voice and relished with determination to ruin his day.

"On what grounds can you make this decree, I was not present for her questioning."

"She gave her consent to be questioned." The judge pointed to Margaret.

"Without me? I see no logic in this continuing when my client was forced into questioning without her lawyer." Henry replied coolly.

"Forced?!" The judge almost sprang out of his seat with indignation.

"You know as well as I that anything she says without the presence of a lawyer cannot be held accountable in a trial."

The judge begrudgingly let the matter go seeing how futile it would be to argue with the strong headed woman _and _her London lawyer.

"Consult with your client." He waived his hand without looking at her.

Henry made his way over to Margaret, beaming as he saw the relief on her face.

"Margaret, are you well?" He asked in all seriousness.

"I am now. Henry, I had no idea." She stopped herself from grabbing his arm and embracing him.

"Your Aunt contacted me and I had no hesitation to help you. I worked day and night to try and find anything that would help you. You understand now why I didn't come to see you? You must understand Margaret there was much to do." He pleaded with his eyes to understand the reasons for his absence. After all, _he was here now._

"Of course, I am glad for it. Thank you, Henry. How much do you know?" She said quietly.

"Margaret, I am your Aunt's lawyer, there is very little I do not know of. But we will discuss that later. Let me get you out of here." Henry turned from her and addressed the judge and the jurors and witnesses of the room.

"Your honor, I represent this woman and am appalled that she should be accused of such a crime!" He bellowed to the courtroom with stern compassion.

The room erupted again. Margaret found herself in awe watching Henry take command of the courtroom. She had always heard what a great lawyer he was but no words could describe what it was like to watch him in his element.

"Explain to the court why you are so appalled? Please enlighten us to the error of these allegations set against this _innocent _woman?" The judge yelled over the other men.

"Your honor, forgive me, what year is it?" Henry asked seriously, but Margaret could see the cheeky grin threatening to pull at his mouth.

"I will have none of this!"

"Humor me, someone please what century do we live in?" With no reply from the courtroom, Henry answered his own question for them. "Gentlemen, we are living in the nineteenth century. The time of witches, and goblins, magic and the occult is far behind us in the dark parts of our history. I for one never thought I'd live to see the day when a young lady of esteemed upbringing would be put on trial for witchcraft. All the allegations set against her can be proven in her favor as false, easily."

"Then start with these books checked out by your client. All of them the subject of some sort of evil and otherworldly evils, all books that your client has steadfastly denied checking out. Do you also believe these are forgeries of her signature?"

"May, I see these papers?" Henry stepped forward with his hand outstretched. He turned towards Margaret, "Miss Hale, tell me, is this your signature?"

He nodded towards telling her what her answer would be. She didn't feel the prickle of fear so she said, "Yes, this is my signature."

"See, she admits to it!"

"Miss Hale, are you fond of reading?"Henry ignored the judge.

"Of course."

"And when you went to the library, were these books hard to come by? Did you have to force anyone to let you see them?"

"No. I admit I was a little skeptical to search them out, but the man, Christopher, he was very obliging and took me to see the collection he had." Margaret could remember that day, and what having such new knowledge at her fingertips felt like, how alive and open she felt. She never dreamed this would be the outcome.

"So, anyone that came in asking for a book would find no resistance in finding these books, is that right Miss Hale?"

"I believe so, yes."

"What is your point Mr. Lennox?" The judge interrupted.

"My point is, that anyone could have checked out these books on any other day, yet it just so happened to be my client, who I'm sure sought them out for mere curiosity and who just so happens to be an avid reader, a well read lady, who most likely grew bored of her everyday romance novels and sought out some more exciting ventures." She would chide him for that remark later, he knew her better than to read romance novels.

"Does this sound correct Miss Hale, am I misleading your character to the court?" She thought to deny reading romance novels, but that was not important of course, so she instead replied, "No. Not at all."

"Then how do you explain the mysterious disappearance of the Boucher and Higgins family, whom Miss Hale claims to have a great friendship with, yet cannot give me their location?" The judge was determined, that Margaret knew and Henry was just now learning.

"Not mysterious at all. I have here two letters," He dug into the breast pocket of his jacket and procured two parcels and handed them over to the judge, "from Mr. Nicholas Higgins and Mr. Boucher. Both give statements of their whereabouts and safety. They told me to pass on to you that if their presence was needed they would come immediately." Henry looked to Margaret, "Oh and they send their best wishes to you, Margaret and apologize for not saying goodbye. Bessie wishes me to say how much she misses you."

"Enough, Mr. Lennox let us not stray from the matters at hand." The judge looked at the letters skeptically.

"Of course, your honor."

"And what of her brother, Frederick Hale?"

"It is indeed a sad situation and no secret to anyone who reads the paper. I'm sure you're aware of and know that it has nothing to do with what Miss Hale is here for now. If you wish to accuse my client of conversing with her outlawed relative then I believe you will have to bring her to court on another day. No one has heard or seen Frederick Hale since his disappearance. The matter of his whereabouts is not relevant with this hearing."

The judge took on a red complexion and shakily moved papers around on the desk before him. He seemed at a loss as what to do next. Margaret could see him grumbling to himself in agitation. The court grew with more murmurs and whispers at the delay until finally Henry Lennox spoke aloud, "Will that be all, your honor?"

The judge turned his gaze to Henry, and Margaret thought he would combust right before them. "No, that will not be all Mr. Lennox!" He hid his shaking hands in his robe and then proceeded to tell Henry, "The next time you are in my courtroom you had better be damned sure you arrive in a timely manner. I will not stand for tardiness!" And with that the judge hit the block once again with his gravel and declared, "All charges are dropped in the case of Miss Hale, court dismissed!" He turned abruptly not giving one more look to Margaret or her lawyer.

The room began to change as others took their leave after the judge. Margaret sprang from her cubicle and Henry caught her as they embraced with the relief of their success.

"Henry, that was wonderful. How could I ever thank you?" Margaret stepped away from him to take in the sight of him.

"No need, Margaret, your Aunt pays me handsomely." He smiled.

"How long have you known about my family?" Margaret asked quietly as some other men still lingered in the courtroom.

"Quite some time now." He steered her towards the door. "Let us not discuss this here. There is much to tell you."

Margaret and Henry left the courthouse to be greeted by none other than Fanny and Mrs. Thornton. Fanny ran to Margaret to embrace her and even Mrs. Thornton couldn't help the smile that spread over her face.

"Is that it, Margaret? Are you free?" Fanny asked her.

"Yes, this is Henry Lennox, my aunt's lawyer. And I suppose _my_ lawyer now. He is the one to thank." Margaret praised him freely which caused him to smile sheepishly in front of the women.

"It's my job." He replied.

"How humble of you, Mr. Lennox." Fanny said with a nod. "This is my mother, Mrs. Thornton."

At the introduction, Henry's face visibly fell. All the women noticed it.

"Henry, what is it? What do you know?" Margaret frantically asked him.

"Your aunt contacted me. She has news, Margaret, of Thornton, but she wouldn't say more than that."Henry told her with concern of his own.

"Where is my aunt?" Margaret was determined to go to her right this second. She wished she had learned to travel to other places in an instant.

Mrs. Thornton intervened on the conversation, "I took the liberty of bringing your aunt, cousin and brother somewhere safe. John had secured a home without Bell's knowledge. He must have known something dangerous would happen where we would need to hide. I just wish John could be there with us."

"We will find him." Margaret tried to assure Mrs. Thornton, while looking to Henry to give her hope.

Margaret dreaded what news her aunt would give her. She tried to focus on the fact that the rest of her family was somewhere safe and secluded, out of the reach of Mr. Bell. She had John to thank for that, even in with his absence he was still a beacon of light guiding her through the darkness.

Henry took no time in making plans to move them all to the Thornton's secluded place, to which Mrs. Thornton called, Thornton Manor.

**A/N 2: I have no real knowledge of courtroom terminology and what exactly goes on in court (especially in this time period) but I do know that the use of the gavel and block is an American thing. So I apologize for putting that in but I couldn't help but get that image out of my head when I imagined this scene. I hope it read at least somewhat realistic. And I'm still working on getting that image to upload somewhere. I'll let you know when it happens. Thank you for and reading and please review! **


	20. Chapter 20

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 20

The fear and uncertainty that Margaret had felt while in prison was nothing compared to how she felt now. With the knowledge that John was more than likely in Bell's hands, Margaret felt time ticking past her. Every moment she spent in hiding and waiting was another moment lost with John.

Since reuniting with her brother and Edith at Thornton Manor, along with her Aunt, Fanny and Mrs. Thornton, Margaret felt the absence of John all the more. And she wasn't the only one. Every day since they learned the news, Mrs. Thornton was in a quiet rage. Her calm exterior did nothing to diminish the raging sea behind her cold blue eyes. Margaret tried her best never to look into those eyes for every time she did she could almost see John looking back at her.

But Mrs. Thornton did her best to make her guests feel welcome in her son's, the Manor's master, absence. The dark and cold manor sat on the shores off the coast of somewhere far from Milton. Aunt Shaw asked for their exact location to be kept from them, in case Bell could try and read their minds or invade Margaret's dreams. The house was furnished in exactly the same way as the Thornton's Milton home but with more history and personal touches from each family member. Margaret got the impression that this was more of a home then the one she was familiar with in Milton. Fanny had shown her all the rooms which she was told she could, "Use to her liking." Margaret tried to settle in and to make herself comfortable, but the guilt of doing so without John kept her restless.

Her Aunt had tried to keep her busy by teaching her more spells, potions, and retelling their family history to give her a better understanding of who she was and what path she should choose to take. Margaret's only trouble was trying too much too soon. The drive and determination to learn everything to better destroy Mr. Bell and save John left her Aunt frustrated and everyone else sorrowful for what Margaret was going through.

The warm sea air brought a welcome change through Margaret's bedroom window as she sat and read over the letter once again. The more she read it the more she was numb to the words. But it was the last word she has had from him in nearly eight months.

….

_Three weeks ago…_

_The journey was long to Thornton Manor. Margaret took no time in leaving the carriage and sprinting towards the door where her Aunt waited with news of John inside. She opened the door unfazed by the unfamiliar home and sought out anyone who might hear her._

"_Hello? Is anyone there?" Margaret asked to the empty space that surrounded her. A massive staircase circled the left half of the room leading to a series of dimly lit corridors. Portraits of unrecognizable but prestigious looking faces were lined along the high walls. Her gaze was naturally led to the low hanging chandelier set in the center of the room. Margaret had the feeling that it must have been ancient. The wood carvings on the banister, the wallpaper, tapestry, and rococo styling transported her back to a time when a queen could have used this manor as her summer hideaway._

"_Margaret is that you?" The unmistakable voice of her brother echoed through the room just as Fanny and Mrs. Thornton had joined them in the entryway._

"_Fred." He came through the east corridor swinging Margaret in his arms with joy, she squeezed him all the tighter, she never thought she would have ever seen him again, much less this soon. He nodded to Fanny and Mrs. Thornton in thanks for bringing his sister back to him._

"_How are you? Where is Henry?"Fred looked behind her expecting him to walk through the door after them._

"_Business." Margaret told him simply. Henry had seen them off in London, giving them the reason that matters were not quite settled yet of clearing Margaret from some allegations. He had confidently told them, "Not to worry."And he went on his way wishing Margaret all the luck in the world with earnest meaning._

"_How are you?" Fred asked again._

"_I'll be fine once I hear the news from Aunt." Margaret told him._

_Fred's face visibly fell and Margaret could hear Mrs. Thornton take in a hissing breath. Margaret reached out for him but he steadied her hand. "I know nothing Margaret, none of us do. There is a letter from him. We have not seen him."He said regrettably._

_Fred led the three women down where he first entered. The corridor led to a smaller, more comfortable room filled to the ceiling with books. The north facing windows were wide and open letting in the sea air and revealing a view of the coast. Margaret could hear the crashing waves and smell the coming storm with the dew and salty air. She instantly felt her face flush from the warmth and humidity._

_Edith and her Aunt welcomed her as she entered. Edith cried into Margaret's shoulder, having been so long without seeing her since they parted at the train station in Milton all those months ago._

"_I'm glad you are all safe." Margaret told them as she held Edith tighter."Thank you Mrs. Thornton for bringing my family together again."_

"_Of course. It would have been what he wanted." Mrs. Thornton said rigidly with false confidence._

_Margaret only nodded and reluctantly let go of Edith to go to her Aunt._

"_Can I see the letter Aunt?"She held her hand out._

_Her Aunt Shaw stood for a moment and begrudgingly gave her niece the fated letter. She herself was terrified to know what news was waiting for them in the letter._

_Margaret took it with a trembling hand. Now that she had it in her possession she didn't think she could read it. She didn't want to know. She wanted to keep on fighting with the hope that he was well, that he was alive. If he wasn't, how could she go on then?_

"_Margaret, would you like me to read it for you?" Fanny asked kindly. But Margaret could see she didn't want the task of it either. Margaret shook her head and gave a reassuring smile._

"_No Fanny, I will do it. Shall I read it aloud?"_

"_Yes. Please Miss Hale I wish to be kept in the dark no more." Mrs. Thornton grabbed her daughters hand to give comfort or keep it for herself, Margaret wasn't sure._

_Margaret broke the seal immediately letting her take in the scent if the mill, and ink, and something else she would never be able to describe but she knew it was totally and completely him._

_She opened the letter and began to read aloud._

_My dearest Margaret, _

_(My dearest heart is what was written but she chose to keep it to herself, this one thing she would keep for her own)_

_If you are reading this, it means he has found me and more importantly you are safe. I can ask no more than that. You will be safe at the manor. As far as I know Mr. Bell has no knowledge of the place. And I took great care and precaution in making sure he never knew about it. It was our refuge in case something like this should ever happen and I am thankful for such an idea so you would have a haven to escape from him. As I write this I don't know whether or not I am alive by the time you read this. So I will tell you this: Go on. Continue with your learning, become the great witch I know you were born to be. Mr. Bell has reigned for too long over innocent lives with his evil intentions and I know you are the only one capable and brave enough to stop him. Be careful and stay strong, whether I am or am not still on this earth. I live in the hope that God will grant me lenience for the mistakes I have made so that I might see you again. If not in this lifetime maybe we will make it in the next. I love you my dear heart, and my heart is full with the knowledge that you love me in return. I never hoped of such love from such a creature as you._

_Take care of my sister and my mother. Mother will try to be strong but she needs you and Fanny sees you as her own sister as I know you do in return._

_Farewell Margaret and keep dreaming._

_Yours Forever,_

_John_

_Margaret raised her head to a silent room. The solemn faces of those around her made her breath hitch and her eyes water. If only he knew how many people truly cared for him, the thought stung at her eyes causing one tear to fall but she quickly brushed it away. Mrs. Thornton had Fanny's hand in an iron grip as she sat on the couch trying to understand her son's words._

"_How did you come by this letter?" Margaret asked her Aunt. If John didn't send it who did?_

"_After we were summoned by Mrs. Thornton to join you here, a man, not soon after our arrival, came to deliver the message to you. As you were not here yet and still in prison I told him that I was your Aunt and would deliver it for you. He looked quite skeptical and only gave it to me when I showed him proof from Mrs. Thornton's letter to me."_

"_What did this man look like?"Margaret wondered._

"_He wasn't proper that's for sure. I don't know why Thornton would trust a vagabond with such precious mail. He looked like he could work in one of those mills you told me about, had a girl with him too. Skinny and fair, she looked quite distressed when I told them you weren't here." Her Aunt Shaw, for all her good character, was till as stuffy as ever._

"_Nicholas and Bessie." Margaret breathed in relief. "This letter must have been written months ago." Margaret sunk back into a chair, her head whirling with this new turn of events. John, where are you?_

"_Regardless of when it was written, you know what you must do now Margaret, don't you?" Mrs. Thornton asked, gravely._

"_I do." Margaret hung her head already feeling defeat._

…

Margaret lay back on her bed remembering that day, how it changed everything in her mind. She had visions and hopes of defeating Bell with John by her side. Now she had to consider the possible future without him in it. She held the letter to her lips smelling the faint musk left behind on the parchment.

_John, John, John, where are you?_

For months Margaret had stayed strong and kept a brave face for those around her, now all she wanted to do was cry and never leave her room. Her constant tearful self loathing eventually exhausted her and she fell asleep easily in the brightness of midday.

The lulling sound of waves crashing on the shore outside her window calmed her mind and the sunlight filtered through her swaying curtains casting shadows behind her closed eyelids. The salty air caused her tears to become stiff on her face. Soon darkness took her. All sounds and thoughts lost as she drifted further and further into her mind.

Margaret thought she felt the curtain brush her face as the wind picked up. She turned over to face the other way, away from the window. The annoyance at feeling it again caused her to sit up abruptly and give up on sleep all together. She rose from the bed to close the window, looking out at the rolling hills if Helstone.

Her breath caught at the familiar sight of her childhood home. The brisk air and overcast sky filled her with more hope than the past summer days by the sea. She turned to the room seeing it was her room from Helstone, everything the same as when she last saw it!

She was dreaming!

Her next thought caused her a slight panic. _Would John be here?_ She feared that anything she did next would ruin the dream all together. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the memories of her old room, the gentle breeze on her back, the touch of the chipping wood of the windowsill under her hands, the creaks and groans of the old house. Once she felt sure that her mind and body were satisfied where they were she let go of the hold she had so fiercely on her windowsill and walked past her bed out to the hall and into the empty room that was still covered with white sheets, dust, and leaves from a window being left open.

She waited for any sign of him, a smell, a breath, a feeling, anything. The room became colder and the sky darkened bringing the room into darkness. She could just make out the outlines of furniture and doorways. She waited, knowing something was going to happen or someone would make themselves known. The floor creaked behind her under the weight of some unknown person. Margaret turned quickly to see the familiar outline of someone she knew very well. The broad shoulders and strong stance belonged to a man she once thought as mysterious and possibly dangerous to her, a man she grew to know and love and miss terribly over the last eight months. She knew this man.

"John is it really you?" She daren't move an inch for fear of having everything swept from under her feet.

He came closer with the mention of his name. She could clearly see his face now. The stern brow over the blue intense eyes, the long strong nose, and thin soft lips set into a straight line all belonged to Mr. Thornton. But there was something different about him. The blue eyes, circled with dark sunken shadows, looked at her with uncertainty and, was that…_loathing? _The lips turned into a sneer showing pale gums enhancing the shadow of the grown stubble on his face. His raven hair usually kept short and fine was longer so it reached past his jaw line and he was dirty and unkempt.

_This was not like John. _

"What has Bell done to you?" She voiced her thought aloud, looking at him sorrowfully and she felt his pain in that moment. The past months of fear and torture radiated off of him bringing a sickening feeling to her stomach. She was wrong to think her time kept in prison was worse then what Bell was truly capable of.

"You know Bell?" He sneered. "How do you know me?"

Margaret could see his fists tighten in rage and stepped back from him immediately. This was not her John.

"What has he done to you?" She asked with more passion, infuriated that he should be treated in such a way. He looked like a tortured soul. She couldn't bear looking at him. But he invaded her space as he came closer to her all traces of the man she loved gone from this form before her.

"You're the witch." He pointed an accusing finger at her as his rage doubled and his eyes narrowed. "You're the one he warned me about!"

"John, it's me, Margaret!" She screamed at him, begging him to believe her. _What was wrong with him?_

"I know who you are or _what_ you are, witch! You will not defeat me and my master." He came closer to her and grabbed for her arm, she disappeared in a gust of wind under his gaze and he turned to see her standing behind him holding herself together. It was the first time she had attempted that and didn't like that she had to do it with John.

She didn't know what to say. As far as she could see her John wasn't here, but this demon, was in his place doing the bidding of his master.

"Your tricks will not save you." He laughed. The sound grated in her ears.

"I will not hurt you, I never will." She promised as she looked at him with hurt in her eyes that he did not see.

"I cannot say the same for you. I have orders." He came closer. His features turned darker and his teeth shined brighter in the dim room.

"But you are in my dream." She reminded him.

"What?"He looked taken back, realizing he didn't think to question how he got here in the first place. _Was this a witch's trick?_

Margaret began to shift the dream, altering simple images and objects to show him how much power she had over him. She needed him to see that even with all that she could do she would not hurt him.

"Are you in my head?" He asked unsure himself if this was real or not. "Get out! Get out witch!" He pounded his head as if that would stop her.

"If that is what you want. I will stay out of your head and keep you from my dreams." He stopped to listen to her words. This is not what he expected when Mr. Bell told him how powerful and dangerous a witch she was. "But I will not stop saving you. You tell Mr. Bell I'm coming for him."

At the threat to his master, Mr. Thornton leapt at Margaret, snarling like an animal. Margaret assumed he was striking to kill. She slowed down the dream leaving him in midair and she willed herself to wake up from this nightmare.

She opened her eyes and screamed as she sat up in her bed back at Thornton Manor. Sweating and wet from her tears, she shook with fear at what her John had been turned into. The evil and hatred in his eyes chilled her to the bone and made her tremble with fury. So Bell had turned John against her. Margaret had to admit that she was totally unprepared to against Bell. But she would come for him, regardless, and he knew that.

Margaret's bedroom door swung open. Fred came rushing in with Henry right on his heels. Margaret tried to stop her trembling and wipe away her tears.

"Margaret, what has happened?" Fred held her shaking body to his to still her.

"He has him! Bell has him!" She cried, remembering the look in John's eyes and not recognizing the man she fell in love with. He truly was a demon now.

The two men stood in silence, understanding her words, watching on in helplessness.

"We will find him, Margaret. Both of them." Fred assured her.

"It's too late. Bell has all of him, he's not the same man anymore."

Fred looked to Henry for some sort of explanation, when Henry wouldn't speak of what Fred could so clearly see was in his mind he shook his head in silence.

"I must leave today. I need to find him." Margaret got up and struggled to pull herself from her brother's arms.

"You do not know where they are, Margaret. They might not even be together. What if you find Bell first? Then what will you do?" Fred stood in front of her, blocking her escape.

"I will kill him!" She yelled.

"Then you will lose all hope of finding John. Think, Margaret." Her brother's words angered her but stilled her to contemplate her actions. "Henry is back, he has news, Margaret, on where they might be hiding."

Margaret perked up as her heart sped faster. If they knew where John was why were they standing around wasting time?! "Where is he?"

Henry breathed a sigh, "It's not that simple, Margaret."

"Where? Henry don't you dare keep me in the dark, not now." Margaret looked to him with fury but Henry could recognize the pain and anguish that caused her to react as she did.

"I've had contact with others that have kept their eye on Bell, tracing his steps, following his every move. I had word around the time you were in prison that Thornton was seen with him. I'm sorry I did not tell you but my main focus was to make sure you were safe. Please forgive me, Margaret." Henry asked.

"Tell me where he is, Henry." She said, ignoring his own guilt that he felt.

"They were last seen together in Germany. One of my men spotted Bell a few days ago closer to Milton, but no sign of Thornton." Henry paused, fearing Margaret would collapse on the floor with anticipation. When she didn't falter he continued on. "The man that had given word to me of their location in Germany was dumbfounded on Thornton's disappearance. He said he vanished out of his sight. I spoke with your Aunt as soon as I came back. She thinks she knows where Thornton is. I fear I haven't the heart to tell you, Margaret. It is quite unbelievable to me, even after all I know and have seen."

Margaret pushed past the Henry and Fred to find her Aunt. As if she had conjured her Aunt herself, she walked through the door coming to Margaret's side.

"Where is he Aunt? If no one will give me an answer soon I will leave anyway and find him myself, with or without anyone's help!" Margaret's frantic voice caused her Aunt to raise her hand for silence. She didn't have to wait long for her Aunt's answer.

"Where he is, Margaret, no human can go. I fear this is your moment to steal your courage and face this task Bell has set upon you. Bell has fully transformed Thornton to an evil creature like himself. If you are successful, and Thornton is truly a demon then you must make a choice: To save Thornton's soul or kill the demon."

"I have to find him and try to save him." Margaret's eyes threatened to well up again. "Tell me, exactly where he is."

"He is in the place between worlds, neither Earth, nor Heaven, or Hell. He is in the space unseen by mortals. The place that Bell left him is where it all began for us, for witches and demons. The portal is where the first witch of our family made the first demon. That is where you need to go, you will find him there."

"I will go now." Margaret swept past her Aunt to pack away only what she would need. The fear in her told her to leave everything behind and go to him now, the logical side of her told her to pace herself and plan.

"Wait, Margaret you cannot go." Fred implored her. With her back to her brother, she kept to her task to pack her things. "What if he has set a trap for you, he knows you will go to him!"

"I have to save him."She said determinedly.

"Let me go, I will find him." Fred offered.

"You expect to leave me behind and wait for you to come back?" She stopped to look at him. "I will not. And I'm the only one that can save him."

"That's not entirely true. I am from the same blood line as you!"

"You are not a witch." She huffed. With the silence from her brother she looked to her Aunt to see skeptical look on her face to show she knew differently. "Is he?" She asked her Aunt.

Fred came closer to Margaret. "Aunt has been telling me of our history. She believes I have inherited some power, not like yours but I can surely help."

"You do not have as much experience as I have. And don't you dare suggest Edith go with you." If Edith was going, she was going!

"I wasn't! But Margaret I will not let you go willingly into a trap set by Bell."

"Then what do you suggest? I will not stay here and you have not the knowledge to bring John back, he doesn't know you Fred."

"And he will not recognize you either, not anymore." Margaret's pain returned with the blow of that fact. _He will not know you_. " I know it pains you but he is dangerous, Margaret. You would die to try and save him?"

"Of course I would. And so would he!"

"You are not thinking logically, Margaret. We know Thornton is alive. That is enough for now. We should be keeping an eye on Bell, get to him first!" Fred was frantic to keep his sister safe.

"What if John isn't where Henry's man said he was. If we destroy Bell, John is lost forever. And if I fail to kill Bell then he will do something else to keep John away from me."

"Fred has a point, Margaret." Henry intervened coolly, the lawyer side of him coming into play. "I know you're scared, but think. Bell knows you will go after Thornton. He's betting on it. If we were to find Bell and end him, you still have a chance to find John with the knowledge that he is alive. You saw him in your dream not a moment ago. Does it not satisfy you that he is at least alive wherever he may be?"

Margaret fell silent and thought of going for Bell first. What a triumph it would be to catch him unawares and surprise him. She would relish in the joy in having the upper hand over him and then finally being able to wipe him from the earth and send him back to Hell.

"Alright, where is Bell?" Margaret asked with stoic strength that surprised even her.

"He is back in Milton."

**A/N: The pain doesn't end here I'm afraid, hold on to your petticoats because it just got serious! Sorry this took so long but I' getting back on track and will hopefully have the next chapter out soon. Please read and review!**


	21. Chapter 21

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 21

The plan was simple, find Bell, get him to reveal where John was, and then end him once and for all.

Simple, or so it seemed. But Margaret knew it wasn't all black and white.

Bell would never tell them anything, especially her. No matter how much pain she would try to force on his being. No matter how many witches' spells she could cast upon him. He would never falter. She knew he had come too far to just give up. He would never release either of them. Not while they were still determined to be together.

She feared of course that she was no match for Bell, but she would try, for John she would walk straight into Hell. She knew that for sure. Her heart above all else would be Bell's main target, Margaret wondered if it would come to that, for either one of them to sacrifice one another would be the last possible outcome. If it came to that, she would perish into flames for John Thornton, demon or not.

When the plan was laid out and everyone knew their part, though none was happy about the whole thing, they made their final preparations. The night before Margaret, Fred, and their Aunt were to depart to Milton, Edith, Mrs. Thornton and Fanny were leaving that moment to go to Germany. Henry had gone ahead of them to meet with his correspondence to find out exactly where Bell was hiding Thornton. Margaret wanted so badly to go with them. If she ever found John alive and well she would run away with him and hide from Bell forever. But they would always be hiding. She knew he would never stop tormenting them. So, she stuck with the plan.

Fanny and Edith were all tears as they said their goodbyes to Margaret. Reluctantly they piled into the carriage for their long journey to Germany. Mrs. Thornton did not hug Margaret or shed a tear. She kept her stern eyes focused and hard and leaned closer to Margaret, and told her fiercely, "Kill him. Make him suffer."

Margaret could see the twitch of Mrs. Thornton's mouth as she controlled her emotions from turning into a gleeful smile at the thought of Bell's torment. Margaret figured that was as good as a blessing she would ever get from her. Margaret smiled in return and promised, "I will." In that moment Margaret knew she could do it. Mrs. Thornton stepped into the carriage and as the door shut Margaret grabbed her arm through the window. "Tell him I'm coming, even if he doesn't know me. Tell him." Mrs. Thornton nodded once and the carriage took off.

Margaret stood looking over the horizon as the carriage faded out of sight. Her mind was eased a little with the thought that John would be looked after by his family if he was found. _When! When he is found!_

As the night took over the manor and the house was almost empty Margaret became restless just waiting and doing nothing. Fred and her aunt were in the parlor talking in hushed voices. Margaret could hear laughter a few times and longed to go and see what they were talking about. But her guilt over being in _his_ house safe with_ her_ family without him made her seek solitude in her room.

She walked back and forth from her window to her vanity as she thought over what would happen and what could possibly happen when she arrived in Milton. She knew she could lose everything. Her family, John's family, Bell could take everything and make her witness it all. She wouldn't let him. These thoughts alone were of his making and his doing. He wanted her to doubt and to be afraid.

She cried out in frustration. She couldn't even remember John as he used to be, she repeatedly played over their last meeting in her mind. His cold hard eyes and the way he threatened her. _It wasn't him_, she reminded herself. _It's not him_.

She heard her Aunt and Fred stirring downstairs. Eventually Fred came to her room to wish her goodnight. Knowing how she was he did not want to disturb her and her thoughts.

"Goodnight Margaret. I will come wake you in the morning." He said through the half open door.

"I don't think I will sleep tonight, Fred."

"I don't think any of us will sleep until this whole matter is over. But just try." He said with sympathy, knowing full well that Margaret more than anyone else would never rest until it was over.

"Goodnight Fred." She offered him half a smile but it fell almost immediately. He closed the door to leave her to herself.

Margaret stood for another moment, trying to get her thoughts together. Her Aunt had taught her a trick that when she was feeling overwhelmed or unsure of herself, to steady herself, breathe deeply and to picture herself doing so. Eventually she would leave her body, free of thoughts and fears and be able to look in on herself.

Margaret had accomplished this only a few times, because it came with a warning from her Aunt that once she was no longer one with her body that was when she was most vulnerable.

Margaret knew it was risky but she had to free herself from her thoughts if only just for a moment. Maybe then she could catch a glimpse of John, see if he was alright. She promised him she would not invade his thoughts and she couldn't risk losing that trust now, if she had it at all, but she would not let him see her.

She stood still and breathed the cool sea air deeply in her lungs. She could feel the prickle of the humid salty air as it stuck to her skin. The crash of the waves from far off faded slowly in her ears as the beating of her heart became heavier in her ears. She felt a tingle in her toes and her fingertips until she felt nothing at all. She felt herself rise from the ground without the weight of her own body.

When she finally opened her eyes after a few more calming breaths she looked down at herself. From the corner of the room she could see herself standing, breathing heavily, her face calm and tranquil.

From her view of herself Margaret could keep watch over her form as she disentangled herself from her worries and fears. She closed her eyes again with a soft sigh, when the loud bang of her door swinging open startled her from her peace. All at once her thoughts and fears came storming back to her. Panic rose in her as she tried to get back to herself but she couldn't move. Her body was immobile, still breathing as she struggled to get back.

_What is this? This has never happened before!_

As she fought with her invisible bonds, she felt it then. His presence was overwhelming and he was close. She fought even harder now knowing what the threat was.

_How did he find us?!_

Margaret struggled for what felt like an age as she sensed him come even nearer. Then she had an idea, she couldn't get back to herself, but she could try to will her body back to her.

She focused on herself from across the room and miraculously her body started to move closer to her. She had to wait for the right moment that she could let everything go and just let herself fall back into herself. Just in time as the door creaked open wider Margaret let herself plummet down connecting back with herself and falling into a crumbled heap on the floor. She gasped for breath as she became familiar with her form again.

Just as she looked up, Bell was standing right in front of her.

"That was impressive my dear Margaret. I can't wait to see what else you have up your sleeve." He held a hand out to her to help her up. She crawled away and stood up on her own.

He chuckled as she didn't take her eyes off of him.

After a silence Bell asked mockingly, "You're not even the slightest bit curious how I found you?"

Margaret said nothing. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. As terrified as she was she wouldn't let it show.

"Well, you'll spoil my fun if I don't tell you." He paused for dramatic emphasis. "It was John, and all I did was ask nicely."

"You tortured him. It's not really him."She spat at him, disbelief in her eyes.

"He is what he was always meant to be. His time was fast approaching anyways. But then he met this strong headed, willful girl, and it ruined all of my plans for him." He emphasized his words while looking straight at her. As if she wouldn't realize he was talking about her.

"I'm sorry. It was not my intention."She could have laughed for apologizing, but couldn't manage it. He would know she didn't mean it anyways.

"See, it's that right there that makes me understand why he fell under your spell. Your mother did it to me and now you are doing it to him. I had to break him from this, "He waved his hand around, vaguely, "love spell."

"I used no such thing. You know full well I had no knowledge of my power."

"Didn't you? You may have not used a spell, but your feminine ways always seem to turn the coldest hearted of men into simpering whelps."

"It seems my mother was not successful in changing _your_ heart." Margaret said.

"That is because I do not have one."

"I believe that."

"That was always the problem with Thornton, a part of him would always be human. And you just managed to make him feel that again. He could have been great. Aren't you going to ask me about him? How I turned him." Bell smiled excitedly.

"You know I would never ask even if it was the only thing I would ever ask of you."

"But you are dying to know, aren't you?"

Margaret turned her head, knowing he already knew the answer. He knew just the right way to torment her.

"I simply made him believe that everything he ever felt for you was a lie. You are a just another witch attempting to torment another demon. I told him every moment he thought of you was a trick cast upon him by you."

Margaret didn't want to hear anymore, but Bell continued on seeing the pain this gave Margaret.

"See, that is what is so simple about humans, always willing to believe the lies they are told. He believed it alright and the demon is once again alive and well in John Thornton. I'd like to see you try to make him love you again, with or without a spell."

"Whether he loves me or not, I will still kill you." She promised.

"Yes, I'm counting on that. I do admire you for it but it's time we draw this to a close. The real reason I came here was to give you a choice. That's not something I do often."

"I don't want to hear it." She turned from him, not being able to stand the sight of him.

"You will hear it, because once I've made a decision I always follow through to see it played out."He said more sternly without his mockingly jovial tone.

"Well? What are my choices that you have so obligingly given me?" Margaret couldn't help the sarcasm that seemed to pour out of her when she was around Bell. Maybe it was his gentlemanly façade that made her want to laugh at him. She knew no amount of disguise or tricks could fool her.

"You can do what you came to do, which is try and destroy me and save your precious demon or you can join me and be with him forever." He said simply, like he was asking her to accompany him to a ball the next evening.

"You planned this all along."_He must have, he must have known all along this would happen. All these years he waited for the right moment because he already knew._

"No, but I wish I had. So what do you say?"

"You really believe I would join you." The doubt could be heard loud and clear in her voice.

"Yes Margaret. I would give you everything. I would give you John back."

Margaret perked up at that. And she hated that she would let herself falter in his presence.

"Ah see, human nature, even you are a prisoner to your humanity. Think of it Margaret, you and John finally together, doing as you please…"

"Doing your bidding. Being your slaves." She was no fool. Any ultimatum he gave her would come with a price.

"Well yes there's always a catch."

"What about my family, his family?" It occurred to her then that they could be in danger this moment. If he knew where they were all along, surely he would know of their plan too?

"Not my problem. I have no need to harm them."

"Only to use them against us when you so choose."

"No. If need be I will use our children for that."

Margaret for once could not form a single thought to that comment. Until the weight of what he was saying embedded itself into her mind. Mr. Bell smiled as the color washed away from Margaret's face.

"You did not say… but, how can we…?" She struggled for her thoughts and Mr. Bell witnessed what it was like to break a powerful witch. He would never admit how delighted it made him feel.

"I said you and John would be together, but you and I Margaret we would be joined together."He said with joy. Finally after all his patience, what he had always wanted would soon be his, if he could just get her to agree with his plan.

"I will never give you anything."She said, horrified.

"You will Margaret because that is what I want. I always get what I want. Your mother denied it from me so I will take it from you. Our children will be unstoppable."

Margaret couldn't believe this was happening. Could she sacrifice herself just so she and John could be together? They would never truly be happy. And the thought of Bell fathering her children, for her to have to…no, she wouldn't think of it.

"What do you say, Margaret?"

She wouldn't do it. Even as much as she loved John, she couldn't.

"I want to see him first. I want you to make him as he was. No more hatred or lies."

"I will not do that. It is not a part of my bargain."

"Then the answer is no."

"Are you telling me you will accept my offer if you can just see him?"Mr. Bell was curious to this change.

"And you change him back."She added, she won't be fooled into this without the assurance of John's safety.

He seemed to think about her answer, as he looked her in her eyes to see the desperate need to see John again. If he could get what he wanted by bending even the slightest then he supposed he didn't come all this way to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

"Very well, I accept if you will shake on it, Margaret."

He held his white sickly hand out to her as she hesitantly took his lifeless hand in her own.

_Did she just seal her and John's fate?_

"If we leave now, we can catch the train back to Milton."

She pulled her hand back. "But you said you'd take me to John."

"He is in Milton."

"But, we thought he was in Germany."

"That is exactly what I wanted you all to think."

"I don't trust you and if at any moment I feel that you will cause any harm to John, I will kill you."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't try."

* * *

Margaret didn't like the thought of leaving her Aunt and her brother without telling them where she was going, or whom with, but they would stop her and Bell wouldn't have allowed her in the first place. She realized she always knew it would just be down to her. It was her fate and John's that were always intertwined with Bell. In a morbid sort of way, Bell was the one that brought them together.

_Strange how everything turned out_, Margaret mused.

Mr. Bell had no shame in freely touching Margaret intimately and in public display of everyone as they made their way to the train station. At Margaret's first protest he had reasoned with her that they must look the part so as to not give themselves away.

"Wouldn't it be better to charade as father and daughter, surely that is more believable?"

Margaret received a cold bruising squeeze to her waist for that comment. But Mr. Bell gritted his teeth and smiled as "not to give away anything."

Once they were settled on the train, it took no time for them start their departure as the train moved, Mr. Bell closed their compartment door to make sure no one else sat with them. Margaret instinctively was looking for ways to escape just in case he was taking her on a wild goose chase to somewhere even further from John. Her darting eyes alerted him to her thoughts.

"I wouldn't think about it, Margaret. There is no place for you to go…unless you jump." He laughed. "Don't worry, I'll keep my end of the bargain."

Instead of giving him a snarky reply, she turned her head towards the window. The summer sky was overcast with thick white clouds. She watched them rumble across the passing sky as she mentally counted the seconds she had to spend in the small space with Bell. _Before the day is over you will see him again_, she assured herself.

Hours passed in silence in the cramped space between witch and demon. Margaret hoped he would leave the cabin if only for a few moments to give her some reprieve. She knew he didn't trust her just as she didn't trust him. To be fair she wouldn't rust herself alone either.

After what felt like ages, the train slowed to pull into a station. Margaret perked up that they might finally be in Milton.

"It's just a stop, Margaret. We have another few hours."

She sank back in her chair. "Where are we?"

He hesitated as he pretended to read his paper, "Helstone."

"Helstone." She whispered. _How could she not recognize it?_

A knock on the door startled them both. Mr. Bell sprang from his seat to open the door to reveal a server with a tray of tea and food.

"Yes, what is it?" Bell snapped at the man.

The man looked taken back at his reaction. "Tea for you or the missus? Or will you be departing at Helstone?"

Margaret turned back to the window looking over the green fields of her forgotten home, ignoring the interaction between Bell and the server.

"You must be famished, Margaret." He looked to her as he told the server. "We will take the tea."

"Are you alright Miss?" The man asked, noticing how strange the interaction between them was.

"She's fine. We wish to not be disturbed anymore." Once the tray was set, Bell shut the door in the concerned server's face.

"Don't look too forlorn, Margaret. I'll take you back to Helstone one day."

"I don't wish to go back, least of all with you." She said, trying to avoid his gaze. She couldn't help but catch the delight on his face caused by something she said, he seemed all too joyous all of a sudden and it sent Margaret's mind racing. She knew something wasn't right. Her fingers prickled and her hair seemed to stand on end. Her body was telling her something her mind could not.

"Of course I will bring John too and our children. I will want them to see where their mother was raised, where she played as a child."

Margaret couldn't help but cover her mouth as she felt her stomach heave with the vivid picture that Bell described to her of what her future would be like. Bell quickly offered her a handkerchief, she pushed his hand away. It made her want to laugh at the whole absurdity of his concerned gesture.

"You'll get used to the idea, Margaret." He relished in her reaction.

She shook away the feeling of her unsettled stomach as she tried to catch her breath. He was distracting her. _What from?_

"How long will it be to Milton?" She tried to compose herself.

"Not very long now." He picked up his paper again.

"Where is he now?" She asked as the train jolted, signaling that they were moving again.

"He is safe."

"In Milton?" She looked at him then to see how he would answer her.

His gaze faltered from the paper until he looked at her with a suspicious look on his face. He turned the page of the paper while matching her penetrating gaze. When he looked back down he answered, "Yes, he is safe in Milton."

Margaret knew, she didn't know how exactly, but she knew he was lying. He wanted so badly to keep her on the train. _Why? Why would he try to keep her on the train when they weren't even near their destination yet?_

Margaret looked out the window once again as it came to her, the truth. As Helstone was passing them by slowly, she knew, _John is here_.

Margaret turned her view from the window to focus on the tea tray in front of her. She gently reached for the pot to pour some tea in the cup. The hot amber poured into the white porcelain as the steam rose between Margaret and Bell. She stilled her breathing and tried not to let her hands shake as she poured tea for two, but made sure to keep enough of the scalding tea in the pot.

"I take two sugars, Margaret." Bell said, still looking at his paper.

Before he could even finish the sentence, Margaret swung the pot right into Mr. Bell's face. The porcelain breaking into pieces as the hot tea burned flesh, the steam flourished around him. He screamed and fell forward as Margaret made for the door. She stepped over him and pushed the sliding door open and ran down the narrow hall as Bell's screams turned into protests and angry threats.

Margaret ran, thankful there was no one in her way. She didn't look back in case he had run after her. It was only a matter of time before her would so she acted fast.

The commotion alerted many of the other passengers and servers as they crowded the halls behind Margaret.

She came to the end of the train car and saw her escape. The landscape was quickly moving past her as green fields turned into smudges in her vision and she knew she couldn't hesitate a moment longer before it would be too late. She pulled the door open and the wind blew her back for a moment. Without another thought she jumped from the car, flying through the air until she felt the shock of landing on solid ground and tumbling down the hill. She looked back at the train that had picked up speed and saw no sign of Bell.

Once the train was far enough away she climbed back up the hill and over the train tracks. She ran through the field towards Helstone. If she kept a steady pace she could be there in minutes. She knew the fastest ways to cut through streams and farms to get home faster. Her legs kept moving even as her lungs protested. She didn't look back, not willing to think that Bell was already after her. She just needed time and she could get to John.

She ran over a steep hill and saw the lonely brick house, covered in vines and rose bushes, never had anything looked so grand to Margaret. She ran faster towards the abandoned house hoping that John was inside and safe. She didn't even think of what he would do if he saw her again. She didn't care. She was so close.

She ran up the steps her father had built when she was a baby, passed the rose bushes her mother had tended to as long as she had lived in the house and finally came to the door that was chipped and weather worn. The door creaked and protested as she opened it slowly. She walked through the hall to the parlor where in the middle of the room lay a heap of what Margaret realized was the form of a man.

"John!" She screamed as she moved closer to him and kneeled next to him on the floor. He was in his trousers and shirt but nothing else, no shoes, socks, cravat, jacket anything. His hair was tangled and oily and he had an unkempt beard. Margaret was horrified at how pale and sickly he was, even more so then when she saw him last. She turned him over so he was leaning against her legs. "John?"

He moaned as he struggled to open his sunken eyes. When he did open them he was immediately horrified. "Margaret? No, you can't be here! He promised me!"

"He lied to both of us. Are you alright?" She held him closer amazed that he wasn't trying to rip her apart.

"I was going to be, when he promised me he would leave you alone." He held her hand as she stroked his bruised face. "I'm sorry, Margaret, for hurting you. If I didn't, you would have come after me. I never meant to hurt you. Did you believe me?"

"I did. Oh John, nothing would have kept me from coming after you even if you didn't want me anymore."

"I was afraid of that. So Bell's plan didn't work?"

"I don't think he's too happy right now."

"Good." He chuckled and started a coughing fit that concerned Margaret.

She assessed his condition and wondered how badly he was hurt. "John, we can't stay here. We have to move."

"I know, but I don't think I can." He winced as he tried to sit up.

Margaret gently stood up while keeping his upper body upright. "Can you try and stand on your legs?"

He did, a bit shakily, but once he leaned his weight onto Margaret they both held each other close. He couldn't help looking at her as he brushed her hair from her face. He smiled down at her, "I have the protection spell you gave me."

"I wondered why it didn't work."

"It did, Margaret. More then you'll ever know. I always kept it close." He brought her hand to his chest where she felt the tiny vile hanging from his neck through his thin shirt.

The wind picked up outside and the skies darkened. The walls around them creaked and groaned as Margaret's senses were awakening again.

"We have to go, now."

They started to move towards the door as a voice echoed through the hall into the parlor.

"I've let you get away once I'm not doing it again." Bell rounded the corner, disheveled and bleeding from the burns on his face. The hate in his eyes was reserved for Margaret and she could see murder in them.

"You did that?" John asked surprised.

"Not now, John." Margaret huffed.

"Yes, she did. Your little witch has pushed me too far." Bell stepped closer to them as the air became thicker and warmer around them. Sweat had started to pour off Margaret's brow as her breathing became labored.

"Bell let her go. You can do what you want with me."

"I'm done with all that." With a flick of his wrist, Bell had thrown John from under Margaret's hold across the room. He fell with a hard shock to the floor as Margaret was left facing Mr. Bell alone.

"I'll take you with or without your comply. You will be mine. There will be no more fighting, no more games, or conditions. I'm taking you now." Bell grabbed hold of Margaret's arm dragging her to the door to leave John behind.

Margaret focused on her hand, conjuring a spell that hopefully would leave Bell in painful agony. Once her hand was engulfed in surging purple flame she focused the energy when her palm made contact with Bell's back. He cried out as he fell to the floor, writhing where he fell.

Margaret turned to go back to John, where he lay lifeless on the floor, his chest rising slowly with harsh, grating breaths.

She turned back to where she left Bell, but he was gone. But she knew he wasn't far. She stood slowly not leaving John's side. Readying herself for another attack she looked around her in anticipation, another spell surging through her, ready to be used.

But she didn't see it coming. She was knocked on her back, the wind knocked out of her, lying next to John. When she looked up, what she saw truly terrified her. In the place of Mr. Bell was a demon, the demon that had inhabited Bell's body for centuries. Just like in the books Margaret had read those few months ago, here was a living, breathing demon, but still unmistakably Bell. His face and form but underneath were the flames of Hell, the torment of living for years as an unearthly being behind cold blue eyes.

Margaret tried to move but was stopped as he held her face with cold hands with nails as sharp as a knife.

"Move and he dies."

She stayed still as he forced her to stand up while pulling at her face, bringing her even closer to him. She could smell the foul, rancid breath as his voice washed over her.

"Finally, the Beresford family will pay for what they did all those years ago. Our children will be your ultimate betrayal to them. But first, I end him. My biggest regret will always be that I couldn't make him suffer as he watched me take the life from the witch he loved."

With a spindly hand, he reached for John where he lay but before he could do anything the demon looked to Margaret to see her holding his heart in her palm. The surprise and anger that washed over him made his hold falter as he let her go.

He staggered back still in shock at this un expected turnout.

He looked down at his hollow chest as his demon form started to turn back to Bell's. He fell to his knees, feeling the warm gush of blood as it rushed from his body.

"How?" He whispered, as he spit blood from his human mouth.

"They created you and gave you a heart. I'm taking it back." Margaret conjured a flame in her palm holding his heart as the organ burst and crackled into a flame.

Bell fell forward the life going out of him. Margaret stood with the flaming heart looking over the body of her godfather. Not until the body started to turn to ash and bone did Margaret release the heart into a kettle over the fireplace, letting it turn to nothing more than ash.

Margaret rushed to John's side finding him already starting to move. He sat up as she embraced him tightly to her.

"Is it over?"

"Yes, it's over. He's gone." She burrowed herself closer into his shoulder as she sat next to him on the floor.

"I'm still here." He said.

"Yes, you're alright." Margaret smiled finally looking at him to see him wondering about something she couldn't understand.

"I thought," He started, still thinking it through, "I thought if he died, I would too. I was like him, Margaret."

"You were human first, you were always human. He couldn't kill that part of you." She held him tighter.

"And you were always a witch." He laughed. "How does it feel to be in love with a human?"

"The same as it felt loving a demon."

A/N: So that's the end Bell and good riddance! I hope you all enjoyed this one, I think I have one more chapter up my sleeve but then that will definitely be the end. Thanks to everyone who has followed and reviewed so far. I'm hoping to get the last chapter out by next weekend but no promises. Please read and review it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you!


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Finally an update! Im ashamed to say that I had completely forgotten about this. But here it is. Now, I should mention this chapter has a lot of fluffy romance. I figured with many chapters of John and Margaret yearning for eachother with the uncertainty wether they would be together, I just wanted some good romantic sexiness. So without further ado, heres the next chapter! Please read and review, let me know what you think. Thank you!**

I Dare Not Hope: Chapter 22

It had only gotten harder for Margaret and John after the death of Mr. Bell. Though they didn't have the threat of a demon trying to keep them apart, the troubles of real life took their place. In John's absence the mill had gone under. Without Mr. Bell as his benefactor, John had little to no money to keep the business going or to support the workers that had worked for him. It was a low blow to him and his pride.

After years of being in the debt of his master he had the difficult task of realizing what it was really like to be a man of business on his own. Margaret knew he was up to the task and that he would be a fair and good master but convincing him of that had proved to be futile. Still she would not give up on him. And he would not give up on the mill.

But as it was, there was nothing he could do. The failure of the mill weighed heavy on his shoulders while Margaret tried to find her purpose in this new life. With her brother gone back to Spain and Edith and her Aunt Shaw off to ensure Edith was educated on her duties as a witch, which Margaret was very happy for, she was left to pick up the pieces with her new family. Mrs. Thornton and Edith had adopted Margaret into their family as their own until John and Margaret could be married. Though he hadn't asked her yet, she assumed due to their circumstances, she hoped he would make this declaration soon. _Or else she would ask him herself!_

It had only been a few months since Bell died when Margaret had been living with the Thornton's. She noticed how quiet John had been in the first few months since their ordeal, how he would flicker his gaze in her direction only to look away quickly when she had caught him. She had thought that he was not feeling well and worried over him every day. They had little time to themselves any more since Margaret had been living with all of them, so she didn't have a chance to really speak to him. They had both tried their hardest to steal a moment for themselves in some secluded corner, as the apartment was small for the four of them it was near impossible. A few embarrassing moments of Mrs. Thornton finding them passionately embraced had put off the both of them for some time. John and Margaret had even tried to take an outing with the just the two of them, their real intention was to find some abandoned area of town where no one would know who they were where they could have a moment to themselves. Even to be able to hold hands without the thought of someone noticing or suspecting scandal was all they wanted. They had been through so much to be together that now they couldn't even do that. Unfortunately for them they could never seem to find the moment.

John had taken to spending all hours of his day, and night sometimes, to finding a position, while Margaret did the same. She felt like she was back to the beginning when she first came to Milton. _Funny how something's work out, _she mused.

Finally, in the midst of their plight to find a better situation for themselves, Fanny and his mother had left the apartment they were staying at to visit someone of Mrs. Thornton's acquaintance. Margaret finally saw the opportunity to be with John. She hoped she could convince him to stay in for the day.

"It's so quiet." Margaret had come to John as he was sitting by the small desk pushed in the corner of the sitting room.

"Yes, I fear nothing could dampen Fanny's mood, even when we are on the brink of being destitute." John said with an air of spite. Margaret couldn't help but think he was jealous of his sister.

She ignored his comment and said, "I do love her." It was true, she did, and Fanny was as good as her own sister now. Though she hadn't become very close with their mother, she would always be grateful for the both of them.

John managed a smile, the comment seeming to lift him out of his dull mood that he had seemed to let overtake him these last months. "I'm glad of it." He looked up at Margaret, the sight of her making him remember something. "I must go. I am to meet a solicitor for a position." He rose from his chair and brushed past Margaret to find his jacket.

"Can't you stay in today. Your mother and sister will be gone for awhile." She avoided his gaze and smiled hoping he would understand that she wanted to spend some private time with him.

He saw the look on her face and almost gave in, but he had to do this. _I have to do this for her_. "I must go, Margaret. I will see you tonight."

He went towards the door but before he could open it, Margaret said, "John, wait!" She came to him and pressed herself to him. Looking up she asked, "Will you kiss me before you go?"

He smirked at that and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips before he all to soon pulled away. Margaret reached up with her lips to bring him to her with more fervor. He let go of the door then to wrap his arms around her. She couldn't dismiss the unmistakable shaking of his hands and the hesitation in his lips.

She pulled away to look in his eyes. "How are you feeling?" She had asked sympathetically as they both tried to calm their breathing.

"I'm well." He had said sternly as he pretended to take more notice in the wallpaper then of the woman enfolded in his arms.

She could see the lines between his brows increase as he avoided her gaze. He stood rigid under her touch and breathed heavily like he would collapse at any moment.

Margaret nodded silently trying to understand the reason for his state of emotion. If he really was ill and it was somehow caused by the effects Mr. Bell had imposed on him, she would bring him back and kill him all over again. She hadn't sustained any bodily or mental harm since the occurrence but then she reminded herself, _John_ _was human after all._

"Have you been sleeping?" She asked him quietly.

He knew that she knew he did not. How could he? After everything that had happened, with Mr. Bell, his recovery, which he would never admit was still a task for him, trying to get her brother safely back to Spain, and now the mill_, how could he sleep?_

He envied Margaret and Fanny and their ability to bounce back after all they had been through, he wished he could be so lucky. He had to remind himself that he was human once again. He wondered if he had still been a demon, if he would have felt differently. He wondered if Margaret could still love him as he was. He certainly knew he was different from the man he was before. _God he hoped he didn't lose her love_. The mill, his house, his money be damned, he could not lose her! But if she didn't want to stay, how could he force her? He wouldn't.

"I get sufficient enough sleep." He sighed.

"But not enough." Margaret argued.

He looked at her sternly, "Margaret, I don't wish to argue, especially about this. I am well."

"I can see that you are not. You cannot even hold your cup without trembling or me for that matter." The comment seemed to strike a nerve in him, but Margret knew it was his way so she pushed on, "I see the way you try to catch your breath as if you have weight upon you." She stood from him to look at him but she never let her hands fall from his arms "I know you are feeling poorly. Why won't you let us help you?"

"Because I am the only one that needs help!" He strode away from her as he dropped his head in his hands and stood still while Margaret looked on in worry, "Why am I the only one that cannot recover? How can you stand to be around me when I am weak and of no use?"

Margaret started to speak but he cut her off looking at her now.

"How can you still love me? I have nothing. I can give you nothing." He looked away again afraid she would answer him truly, which she usually always did. He knew he would receive no lies from Margaret.

Margaret tentatively reached out to reveal his face to her. As she took his hands from covering himself she spoke softly yet sternly to him, so that he would know she meant every word, "I am able to go on and sleep and eat and keep to my daily tasks because the one thing that I was afraid would be taken from me is sitting right next to me. And it pains me to no end that he suffers needlessly over matters that are out of his hands. That is what keeps me strong. And you are wrong."

He looked up at her then, the pain starting to ebb away from his face as she spoke to him.

"You can give me everything. All I want is to be by your side. As your troubles become mine we will get through them together."

"You say that now." He smiled sadly, "But happens when you truly have nothing. No home, money, I cannot even give you a wedding. Eventually, Margaret, we will lose everything."

"Is that what Mr. Bell told you all those years ago?"

"Margaret." He warned.

"Is that how he convinced you that unless you joined him, became a creature like him, killed for him, you would have nothing?!" She couldn't help that her voice became louder as she tried to understand the madness that John was letting himself believe.

"He saved us!" He moved further away from her in his fury, still not trusting himself.

"No, he used you for his own benefit. It's different." She followed him, "If he hadn't any use of you he would have let you and your family perish sooner. He used you in the end to get to me!"

He turned abruptly with pain in his eyes. "He was the closest person I had to a father."

"You cannot seriously mean that." Margaret was shocked as she tried to understand him.

"For years, Margaret I believed him to be our savior. Even with all the horrible things he asked of me. My family was safe, that was all I wanted!" He barked at her. When realization washed over him with the look on Margaret's face, he steeled himself to calm down. When he did he spoke softly to her, "Until I met you, I would have done anything he asked of me."

"I don't understand." She meant that she didn't understand this hold Bell had over him, but he took her confusion as she didn't realize his love for her.

"I knew what he wanted from you. Before I even met you I knew his obsession with you. I was supposed to watch you, make sure you were where he wanted you to be." He paused as he remembered their first moment together, then he laughed a little. "Do you realize Margaret, that when I saw you standing in the hall in your nightgown, I was lost."

She blushed at the memory and didn't say anything as he continued.

"I didn't know it, but in that moment I would have done anything to keep you from Mr. Bell."

"If you knew then what kind of a monster he was and what he could have done to me, why do you defend him now?" She asked with a shake of her head as if she could understand it better.

"I do not defend him." He looked torn again, like another memory was taking over his mind. "I fear him."

"John, he is dead."

"I know." He sighed. "But what if that part of him that was in me isn't? What if that never left me? I couldn't bear the thought of ever bringing harm to you."

She walked over to him. He started to move from her but couldn't control himself as she wrapped her arms around him and he held her back. Their bodies fit perfectly as they stood together trying to overcome the damage that was left by Mr. Bell.

"Even when you were a demon and under Bell's control, I never truly believed you would ever harm me. And I know you are incapable of it now. He is truly gone from this world. The only thing that keeps him here is your mind. You must let him go."

"What am I without him?"

"You are John Thornton, son, brother, and soon to be husband. And I know you will overcome whatever we are faced with. We will make it through this."

"We cannot."

"Yes, we can."Margaret huffed with irritation.

"I mean, Margaret, that while we are unwed we can do nothing. If we are to do this together I want it to be with my wife."

"Oh." She gasped softly.

"Will you…" He paused and then added after a thought, "Can witches marry humans?"

"My mother was married to my father who was human. I don't believe there are laws about that. Even if there were they could all hang for all I care." The indignation in Margret's voice made John laugh and fall for her all the more.

"Then will you Margaret Hale, marry me?"

"Yes." Margaret couldn't think of anything else to say except, "Today."

"Today? Don't you want an engagement, a proper wedding, and your family to witness?"

"I want you. And seeing as my only family is off living their own lives I want to live mine, with you, as soon as possible."

"Well," He laughed, "Seeing as you made me late for my appointment anyway."

"I didn't mean to," She laughed with him, "I've just missed you."

He held her face in his hands, "You won't have to miss me anymore Margaret."

"So we'll go today?" Margaret asked excitedly.

"If we can find a priest who will wed us in such haste, then yes, I will make you my wife." He kissed her then. It was what Margaret had been wanting from him. When he kissed her like this she felt that all the magic she had learned was nothing in comparison to the way he made her skin light up and feel as if she was no long in touch with the world around her, her skin prickled in places her magic would never reach. He heart was full of fire and yearning when he touched her like this.

As if nothing in the world would ruin the moment better her stopped to say to her, "Should we wait for my mother?"

She sighed, "Of course, I would not wish to be on the receiving end of your mother's ire. And I will have to have Fanny be my maid of honor."

"Then what do you say to us interrupting their lunch date?" He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Let me grab my coat." Margaret kissed him once more before they set off with surprising Fanny and Mrs. Thornton of their wedding plans.

* * *

Convincing Mrs. Thornton of their plans wasn't easy but as Mrs. Thornton had put it, "Margaret was not a woman to be told what to do."

Fanny had been thrilled with their plans and even more thrilled that she was to be Margaret's maid of honor. Margaret had noticed the smile, which could have been mistaken for a twitch, appear on Mrs. Thornton's stern face at the events that played before her. Margaret was glad that she had somewhat of her future mother in laws approval.

With a stroke of luck, they had found a priest and were wed that day, in the church where her father's funeral had taken place. How long ago that seemed to Margret now, and how many changes had happened since then. The ceremony was short and simple and just what Margaret had always envisioned for herself, but even better now that she had John as the one standing next to her reciting their vows. Margaret had given him her father's ring and, to Margaret's surprise, John had found a ring for Margaret with the help of Fanny's feminine insight.

Margaret marveled at the band, how simple and yet so unique and beautiful it was. She wondered when he had the time, _and money_ she grimaced, to purchase it. She loved it.

The following morning Margaret had mused that their wedding day was the happiest she had been since her mother's passing. Though the wedding night had been like nothing she had ever imagined.

Entwined in her husband's arms as they lay bare in the small room, Margaret was glad it had been Mrs. Thornton's idea that they seek out a new lodge for the next few days. _How awkward that could have been_. Though when Mrs. Thornton had been the one to mention it, it didn't keep Margaret's blush from her cheek until she saw the same look on her husband's face, she laughed at how sheepish he looked.

_Her husband._

She looked over at him now face down with his face buried in the crook of her neck, his arm resting over her mid section. She tried to turn as carefully as possible to stroke his hair back from his face, running her fingers through his tousled hair, she recalled everything to mind that they had shared the night before and early this morning.

They had barely made it to the bed before they were fully unclothed before each other. They had given themselves just a few moment s to take each other's forms in and relish the anticipation. His gentle touches as they laid themselves entwined with each other made her wish he would be bolder. But it wasn't long before she could sense the need in him as well. As they pulled each other close together, skin hot with sweat and their breath coming in gasps, it wasn't long before he gave in to her, fully, until they were moving as one and taking each other to where neither of them thought was possible. Margaret had loved the way he made her move as if she was not in control. And he had not known how beautiful she could sound as she sighed his name with breathless abandon.

He had reached for her again after they had slept and brought her to him, this time they were slow, their eagerness gone as they took the time to bring each other to their peak again only to be brought together for the second time. The sun just appeared over the horizon as Margaret lay back against the rumpled bed, gasping and trembling under her husband's touch. He too grasped the linens under them as he gave way to his desire letting himself go after Margaret.

As she ran her fingers through his hair she could not help herself smiling as she did. Her whole body was humming and she felt her skin was alight with a million stars, not unlike how she had felt when she and John had been together last night.

She leaned forward to kiss his bare shoulder only to have him wake up, his sleepy eyes falling on her as he too remembered everything that had come to pass.

"Mrs. Thornton you should be thoroughly exhausted this morning." He said sternly but with a wide grin on his face.

"How could I be? When there is so much more to attend to." She kissed his sleepy lips as he fell back letting her overtake him. He wrapped his arms about her bare back as he brought her flush against him. Their cold skin warming with the contact.

They broke apart only to laugh at the sight of each other.

"How do you feel this morning, Margaret?" John asked seriously, as he stroked her cheek and ran his hands through her loose hair. He marveled at the wave and fullness of it under his touch.

"I am happier then I have ever been." She sighed in content as she splayed her hands over his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly beneath. "I love you so much."

"And I love you, my wife."

"Why did you ask me how I feel? You are not doubting that we wed in too much haste are you?"

"No. Never. I would have had you a long time ago, if the circumstanced had not been so dangerous."

"Then why the worry? I can feel it in you."

"I'm amazed, Margaret. I am starting to wonder if you really do have a love spell cast upon me."

Margaret rose from her husband's chest to lean on her elbow, she huffed as she said, "Whatever made you think I would do such a thing? Do you doubt my love for you?"

"No, Margaret, no." He sat up to pull her towards him her hand placed on his smooth hip to keep her balance next to him. He looked away sheepishly to laugh and then said, "Do you realize, Margaret what you were doing last night?"

She looked at him skeptically, "Of course I do. I'm not some naive girl, John."

"What I mean, Margaret is that when you…" He paused trying to find the right way to say this discretely, "let go, when you let me take you to that place of pleasure, you glowed."

Margaret furrowed her brow, "What do you mean?"

"I mean your magic, Margaret, came seeping through your skin like a fire had been lit inside you. Only it was faint and seemed to react whenever I touched you in such a way. It's like your magic was no longer in your control."

Margaret tried to hide a smile while letting her hair shield her face, but John would not let her hide herself not when he thought she looked more beautiful then she had ever been.

"Does it bother you? My magic?"

"God no, Margaret. In a way it makes you who you are. When we were together last night and this faint glow started to pour out of you, I didn't dare hope that it was in some part due to me."

"It was. I have never felt like this since before I met you. If anything you brought the magic out in me."

They came together for a searing kiss, as the morning made its appearance through the curtained window, they made no intention of leaving their small room that served as their refuge from the rest of the world.

"John, would you like to show me how I glow? I'd like to see it." Margaret asked in between kisses that grew more frantic and wanting.

"I would love nothing better, Mrs. Thornton."

* * *

A few days later, fate or luck had graced the Thornton's with some good news. John had been called upon by the solicitor that was supposed to give John an interview before John and Margret had married. The good man seemed all too understanding in Mr. Thornton's want to be with his new wife, thus still granting him the interview that would save them from destitution.

Now, months later, with Mr. Thornton secure in his position, they were able to move into a fine house in London. John was skeptical as to the location but soon found that the city suited him and his new wife. His mother and sister had made themselves comfortable as well. The eldest Mrs. Thornton had remarried one of her late husband's friends that had come to her to rekindle an infatuation he had had with her. And Fanny was enjoying the London society as she had acquired many eager suitors that yearned for her approval and attention. Life it seemed had turned out for the best for the Thornton family. While Margaret had studiously spent all her available leisure hours into perfecting her skill with her magic, her cousin Edith had become quite the apprentice to her Aunt. And news of Fred's marriage and situation had been welcome news to Margaret since she hadn't heard any news from him in awhile.

One blissful afternoon, when Margaret had succeeded in perfecting a rather troublesome spell, John had come home early. She knew he was coming but feigned ignorance as he wrapped his arms from behind her, kissing her shoulder as she stood over her table, all of the herbs and strange smelling liquids making Mr. Thornton's nose bristle.

"What in God's name are you concocting now? Not more of that vile liquid you make me drink is it?" He wrinkled his nose.

"That, for your information, is supposed to help with your health. So don't give me that."

"I am as healthy as I ever have been." He huffed.

"Yes, all thanks to me." She retorted back at him.

"In more ways than one." He turned her around to kiss her.

She reluctantly pulled from him breathless, "Months later and I still feel as if _you_ are the one bringing me under a spell."

"I'm only returning the gesture." He kissed her again before going to sit in one of the chairs stationed by the table. He often sat there while she made some new brew as he looked over papers from his office. "So, really, what is that you've been working on now?"

"It's just a little something for myself." Margaret hummed nonchalantly.

Mr. Thornton frowned at her ease and careless tone, "You're ill?" He stood from the chair immediately to come to her side.

"No, I'm not ill. Not really."

"Margaret, what is it that is ailing you? Tell me now or…"

"I'm with child." She smiled. "I am merely making a small potion that will ensure the health of our baby."

"Our baby…" He grinned, Margaret noted, she had never seen him smile like this. She imagined it was exactly the same smile he would give when he was a child, before Mr. Bell had found him.

She only nodded as he brought her to him, gentler then usual she noted, but she could feel the joy radiating from him. "But you are well? No sickness?" He looked at her sternly.

"No. At least not yet. I think I can come up with something if the need arises. Are you happy, John?"

"Very. You have brought me great joy time and time again. I feel the present I have for you is unworthy with all you have given me."

"You have a gift for _me_?" She said excitedly. "What is it?"

He left her side to go into the hall only to return with a small simple box. He handed it to her without a word but with a knowing smile.

Margaret took it from him to feel the contents of the boxes shifting wildly. She furrowed her brow in wonder at what it could be, only to lift the lid to see a pair of bright green eyes and black whiskers peak out from under. The small but fierce squeak of a cat surprised Margaret.

"A cat." She exclaimed happily.

"Well a kitten, he is all yours Margaret. Black as night but as sweet as a witch."

"This is a surprise. I didn't think you one for buying a cat."

"Don't all witches have a black cat?"

"Yes, I suppose they do." Margaret hugged the squirming cat closer to her. She had everything that she never thought would be possible for her to obtain. She had the love of her husband, a child well on its way, her magic, and now her familiar.

**A/N 2: I have one more up my sleeve. I couldn't resist giving one last chapter. I should be finished with it today!**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: By the Pricking of my Thumbs, Something Wicked This Way Comes

At long last, Diana Thornton was free. An independent and strong willed young witch, powerful for her age, she had finally had the chance to venture out on her own. After years of her mother's teachings and her father's protective hovering, she was counting down the days when she would be let alone.

The months of preparations and planning had made her restless and had exhausted her parents. After her two older brothers had gone off to Spain to visit her Uncle Fred she was left with herself and her mother's black cat. With her brothers gone, it was her turn to leave the nest.

She had taken to calling her mother's familiar, Midnight since her mother never graced him with a name, saying, "He is his own being, I have no right to name him."

But Diana had thought that silly and her father agreed that he should have a name. Midnight seemed to suit him best as he always ventured out till the early morning hours. How she always wished she could do the same. Scour the town under the cloak of night seeing all the strange and wondrous things that happened after hours.

Her mother and father had argued of this subject endlessly. Her mother saying that as a witch it was in her nature to want to venture out , her father saying she was still half human, just a young girl that should not be out on her own.

But they had agreed in the end, in order to test her powers and her own human courage she should go wherever she liked. To which Diana replied, "And whenever?"

This had made both her parents huff in irritation. It had been long known that witches could travel through time and Diana wanted nothing more than to see different sights _and_ different times. When her parents asked her where and when she would like to go she replied, "The future of course." Earning her another groan of disapproval from both her parents.

Her father had tried to persuade her otherwise, "Wouldn't you like to go see your brothers in Spain? Or what about Aunt Fanny, I'm sure she'd love to have you, she's right next to the ocean. You can spend your leisure time soaking in the sun and having tea with your favorite Aunt."

"Father, if I'm going test myself I want it to be someplace new, and exciting, somewhere I can meet new and different people!" She said happily.

"There are new and different people in Spain." He grumbled.

"Yes, but I will have Richard and James hovering over me. And you know how much they vex me on purpose." Her father eyes crinkled when he laughed, she noticed he had become greyer these past months. He stressed himself to no end in regards to her and this trip she was taking.

"John, let her go. I will travel before her and make sure she has everything she needs and we'll know exactly where and when she is." Margaret assured him.

"You think I'm comfortable with you going as well? I see I am outnumbered. I miss my sons being here we outnumber you ladies by one. Now I am defenseless."

"Thank you, father! I will be careful." She got up to kiss him on his stubble covered cheek before she went to her room to make preparations. "Mother be sure to tell me exactly what they will be wearing in the future, I don't want to stick out in these dresses."

"I'm sure you will manage to stick out no matter what you where, Diana." Her mother seemed more tired as well, she knew teaching her magic was a daunting task as was time travel, but she so wanted to be able to do it all.

When Diana disappeared up the stairs, Margaret turned to John, "She will be alright."

"It's not her I'm worried about. Its other people and from a different time no less. Where exactly does she want to go?"

Margaret paused ready for a conflict once she told her husband where they were sending their daughter, "London."

"But _when_?" He leveled her with a look letting her know he wasn't in the mood for jest.

"Two thousand and fifteen."

"_Two thousand and fifteen?_ Why on earth would she want to go that far ahead? What could possibly be so great about London in two thousand and fifteen?" He stood up ready to go after Diana to tell her he changed his mind.

"Well that is the point dear we don't know because it hasn't happened yet."

"Very funny, Margaret." John huffed. "I'm just afraid that something will happen to her, it's not like we can just get on the train and go after her. What if she gets lost?"

"She won't. I made sure to put a tracking spell on her. She doesn't know it, but I put it on her as soon as she turned sixteen."

Her husband gave her a wide grin. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Not lately."

"I love you, my wicked wife."

* * *

Her mother had dressed Diana in pants, as shocked as Diana was it was nothing compared to the look of horror on her father's face when he saw his nineteen year old in what Margaret called "jeans".

"Really, John, she is not being scandalous. There is no skin showing and she will blend in with the people of the time. Isn't that what you want or would you rather she draw attention to herself?"

"Very well, but as soon as you get back we are not to see you in those anymore." After she didn't reply he said more with force, "Diana?"

"Oh alright, I won't where them." Diana couldn't help but touch the fabric that clung on her skin, her mother said it was a t-shirt. She marveled at how simple and comfortable it was. She didn't even have to wear a corset! And the shoes, sneakers she said they were, were incredible. It took her no time to get ready at all. She thought she might just love the future if the rest of it was so accommodating, she just wished she could remember everything her mother told her about the time she was going to.

She finished packing her bag and made her way down the stairs to her waiting parents. With her bag on her shoulder and modern attire her father looked at her with a wistful expression.

"What is it?" She asked him, seeing the worry she knew he clearly felt.

"I'm just amazed, that's all. You look like a completely different person. So grown up."

"I'll be careful father. I promise." She came to her father and held him tight, she felt him kiss the top of her head.

"We know you will." Margaret told her daughter, her own eyes brimming with tears. "You are ready. Just remember everything we taught you."

"Of course I will. I will miss you both, truly. And tell Richard and James I will miss them as well. I am sad they couldn't see me off." She reluctantly let go of her father to grab her satchel she tried not to let herself cry. She didn't want to give her parents the wrong impression. She knew she was ready but it was all so exciting and terrifying at the same time.

"Come on, let's get you on your way." Her mother guided her to the middle of the room where she had drawn a circle in pink chalk. Margaret held the piece of chalk to her daughter, "Now remember when you want to get back, you draw a circle in the exact same spot that you entered the new time and you say _Ut nun cero. Sed eodem temore erit mutare."*_

"I'll remember." She said shakily.

"Say it back to your mother." John told her.

"_Ut nun cero. Sed eodem temore erit mutare." _Diana had replied perfectly.

John along with Midnight looked on as his wife and daughter linked their hands, Margaret had whispered a few words and before he knew it he watched as his daughter faded away. Margaret was left with her hands outstretched, blinking her eyes open slowly to find the space in front of her empty.

"Did she make it alright?" Her husband asked her.

Margaret closed her eyes again. After a few moments John could see the worry and the panic spread on his wife's face.

"What is it?" He came forward, grasping her arm to keep her from falling over.

"I cannot feel her. I lost her. The spell, it's not working!"

"We should not have let her go." John strode away towards the door as if he would walk outside and find his daughter on the street.

"John, look." He turned to see Margaret looking down at the floor. He came closer to inspect what held her attention.

There on the floor, lay the only piece of pink chalk that Diana was given.

* * *

Diana stumbled and almost fell over if it wasn't for whatever it was that had held her up. Of course she would start out her trip so gracelessly_, literally tumbling through time_, she mused.

Upon realizing that it was a person who had halted her fall she looked up and said, "My apologies, I wasn't looking where I was going."

Diana had intended to not bother the man any longer as she eagerly looked at the sights around her. The first thing she noticed was how loud it was, in place of the dirt and cobblestone streets there was concrete and huge metal devices on wheels go back and forth. She marveled at the high buildings and the people that wore the same style clothes as she did. No one looked at her funny or made any notice of her at all. She started to walk down towards the end of the street when the man that stopped her from falling reached out and said, "Are you alright?"

She turned around, a bright smile on her face, "I'm perfectly fine, thank you for your assistance."

After a moment of neither of them leaving she said a bit awkwardly, "Is it always like this?"

The man looked at her, a strange look in his eyes, it made her feel even more awkward, "Is what like what?" He smiled.

It wasn't a kind smile she thought. She just wanted to get moving. "Never mind." She turned away.

"Wait, are you lost?" The man asked her coming to her side again.

"I admit I don't know where I am going. I'm not from here." She said with shrug of her shoulder, hoping he would just point her in a direction and leave her be.

"Ah, I see."The man told her, smiling wider now. "I can show you around if you'd like?"

Diana couldn't help but feel that she shouldn't be talking to this man any more. He just made her skin prickle and her hair stand on end.

"If you could just point me in the right direction, I'd be grateful."

"Where are you going?"

She was afraid to tell him where she was lodging, she really should find it to make sure she could get a room. She was counting on taking care of that first. She promised her father she would. But she chose to lie.

"The British Museum?" She said.

"Ah, what a coincidence, I was just going there myself. I will gladly show you the way if you'll come with me." It wasn't a question, Diana noticed.

"What is your name?" She asked hoping she could scare him off.

"Oh, how rude of me, my name is Bell. Edward Bell at you service my dear." He held out his hand and Diana looked at it for a moment. She didn't know why but she reached her hand out to shake with the man, and as she did so he pulled her into the crook of his arm leading her down the opposite way she was sure he had just come from.

She struggled in vain to free herself from his grasp, not wanting to make a scene or draw attention to herself. That was the last thing she needed.

"I think I can find it fine on my own." She tugged her hand from him only to have him tighten his hold on her.

"I know you can, Diana. But please let me have the pleasure."

Diana gasped, "How do you know who I am?"

"Oh, I knew your mother. How is she by the way?" He sneered and laughed much to Diana's horror as he led Diana further down the street disappearing into the crowded streets of London.

*So as now, as I will be. Time may change but the same I will be.

**A/N: You didn't think you were getting off that easy did you? This has been so much fun and I cant believe it took me over a year to finish. The best part was hearing how you guys liked it and Im so glad you did. And I hope the ending keeps you on the edge of your seat! Thank you again! Please read and review!**

**Also I have an idea for a _very_ short North and South story that will be unrelated to this one, so look out for that soon! Thanks again!**


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